


In The Hall of Broken Mirrors

by Snugglebuttkitten



Series: AU August [7]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien just wants to help, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Marinette has an Anxiety Disorder, Mentions of self-harm, Partial Identity Reveal, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snugglebuttkitten/pseuds/Snugglebuttkitten
Summary: On an ordinary day, much like all other days, Marinette Dupain-Cheng's life changes forever. Forced to act quickly and without thought, Marinette decides to reveal herself before all of Paris to save her best friend's life. Now, she must deal with the aftermath of her reveal while also trying to protect her friends and family from the ever-present threat of Hawkmoth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What even is sleep!?! I wrote this instead of sleeping, and I have an interview in the morning. Great time for my insomnia to kick in, am I right? In any case, this AU doesn't actually contend with any of the AUs in the prompt list. I'm basically posting this instead of a Historical or Internet AU. In my defense, I've been wanting to do this AU for quite some time and just haven't gotten around to it. Plus all my potential Historical or Internet AU ideas were either incredibly dumb or cliche and overused so... yeah. Be gentle because I don't usually write AUs where they keep their powers, so Akuma battles might be a bit basic in description. Like basically all of my fics (let's be honest haha) this is an Aged-up AU. They are in their senior year of high school so 17/18 years old and because I am unoriginal AF, Caline Bustier is still their teacher. Shuddup I love Caline and I'll fight anyone who doesn't.

The Montparnasse Tower was the second tallest building in all of Paris. Reaching six hundred and eighty-nine feet into the sky, it is second only to the famed Eiffel Tower. Fitting, considering it boasts the best view of said Eiffel Tower. It is on a chilly day in November that seventeen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng finds herself atop the observation deck of the Montparnasse, leaning idly against the railing as she stared out at the tower that had become a regular meeting place between her alter ego, Ladybug, and her partner Chat Noir. She yearned to be there now, with him, as opposed to stuck on the smaller tower with her History of France class. Glancing away from the stunning view of the city she called home, she allowed her blue gaze to shift over her classmates. Not much had changed in the last few years, despite the switch from Middle School to High School.

Rose Lavillant and Juleka Couffaine were still the most unlikely of best friends, although many (Marinette included) had long suspected their feelings ran much deeper than mere friendship. The pair stood on the opposite side of the Observation Deck, elbows linked as they stared out over the cityscape spread before them. As usual, Rose was chattering up a storm while Juleka was content to listen and nod along, only offering up her opinion on whatever they were discussing when deemed strictly necessary. Not far off from the pair, Mylene Haprele and Ivan Bruel were wrapped in each other’s arms against the bite of the early winter air. They had been dating steadily since their final year of Middle School and were still going strong almost four years later. Near the center of the Observation Deck railing, Alya Cesaire and Nino Lahiffe were crowded close together around one of the many telescopes, arguing quietly over the best angle to view the Eiffel Tower from. Typical of that pair. Where Mylene and Ivan’s relationship was soft words and gentle kisses, Nino and Alya were flare and passion. They argued fiercely and loved passionately but it was so fitting of their nature that no one ever questioned it.

Near the center of the deck thankfully far away from the railing Max Kante, Kim le Chien, and Alix Kubdel stood in a loose circle. As was usual for the trio, Alix and Kim were locked in a heated argument about the logistics of their next competition (Marinette was too far away to actually hear their hissed whispers but really, what else did they argue about?), while Max tried vainly to be their mediator. Beyond the trio, Marinette could easily make out Chloe Bourgeois and her ever faithful sidekick, Sabrina Raincomprix, standing with their teacher Madame Bustier. No doubt, Chloe was trying to argue her way out of the assignment and with a roll of her eyes, Marinette quickly moved on. Her gaze skipped briefly over a trio of boys to her right, near the railing but paying no attention to the view at all as they spoke far too quietly for her to make out, even with her close proximity to the group. She easily identified them as Nathaniel Kurtzberg and their newest classmate Marc Anciel, along with Juleka’s older brother, Luka Couffaine, who was helping to chaperone their field trip.

Frowning, the young woman scanned the observation deck once more but saw neither hide nor hair of her actual target. It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized he was right behind her, just out of her field of vision when she glanced from left to right. “Hey Marinette,” he greeted in that easy-going tone of his that she had come to associate him with.  Honestly, Marinette had to take a moment to thank her lucky stars that she didn’t jump, shriek, or flail at the sudden presence of her handsome classmate. True, not much had changed since she had transitioned from Middle School to High School, but perhaps the biggest change that  _ had _ happened was that she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, had finally torn down the pedestal she kept Adrien Agreste on. It took a while to start seeing him as a normal human being, a boy who was several months older than she was with likes and dislikes and quirks like his weird fetish for cat puns… and yes, at this point she was almost certain it  _ was _ a fetish. But she had managed and their friendship had blossomed because of it.

“Hey Adrien,” she greeted casually, angling her body away from the railing and towards her blonde classmate as he came to stand beside her. The pair lapsed into a brief silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they stared out at the city in which they had been born and raised. It was Adrien who chose to break the silence once again, drawing his pretty classmate into conversation once again.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” He asked, peeking at her from the corner of her emerald hued eyes. Marinette’s eyes stayed focused ahead as she spoke, the cold air causing a flush to her cheeks that made her freckles pop and her eyes stand out against her otherwise pale porcelain skin.

“The Eiffel Tower?” She asked, curiosity and a hint of faraway dreaminess entering her tone. Adrien’s lips curved into a faint smile. He quite enjoyed watching his classmate, especially when her attention was focused elsewhere. She truly was fascinating to watch.

“The Eiffel Tower. Paris. The City of Light and, as some people say, Love,” he mused, sweeping one hand out to encompass all that lay spread out before him. Marinette finally tore her gaze fully from the view to give her friend a wry grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re a closet romantic, Adrien Agreste,” she teased lightly, though there was genuine affection underlying her tone. Yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had long since torn down the pedestal upon which she kept her friend and classmate Adrien Agreste. But that didn’t mean her feelings for him had diminished in the slightest. Adrien was still the boy who made her heart flutter, her throat constrict, her skin tingle and warm at even the slightest bit of physical contact. She loved him, after all. Not for his stunning good looks or his grossly rich father (as many girls were interested in him for) but for his kind heart, his compassion, his infectious smile. Adrien wasn’t perfect, not by any means, but he brought light and laughter into her life and made her believe that maybe humanity wasn’t quite as doomed as she might have originally feared. If people like Adrien existed, surely there was some hope left.

“Who said anything about a closet? I’ve always been a romantic at heart,” Adrien responded, bumping her shoulder with his own. The playful grin twisting his lips had her heartbeat quickening in the sweetest of ways.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. You are an Otaku, after all,” she quipped, delighting in the way Adrien’s green gaze lit up with a mixture of glee and (mock) indignation.

“You wound me, Mademoiselle. I told you never to mention that in public. Would you so callously betray my trust?” He mock gasped, clutching his heart with one hand and feigning falling backward. Only his grip on the railing kept him upright, as the raven-haired young woman stared down at him and shook her head in mock despair.

“Oh, Adrien. Poor, sweet Adrien. Has no one told you what an  _ absolute dork _ you are?” She lamented, pressing the back of one hand to her forehead and pretending to swoon. It was as the pair were dissolving into a fit of giggles that their best friends, apparently finished with their debate, joined them with twin looks of curiosity across their dark-skinned faces.

“What’s happening?” Alya asked as Marinette and Adrien straightened up, slinging an arm over the shorter girl’s shoulders. Nino mimicked the movement by slinging his own arm over Adrien’s shoulder so that the two best friend flanked the giggling duo.

“Oh, nothing~” Marinette singsonged, shooting a playful wink up at the blonde now pressed into her side thanks to their best friend sandwich. “Just reminding Adrien of what a dork he is. Nothing new.”

“Hey, now. You love my puns and my dorkiness. You find them  _ paw _ sitively irresistible,” Adrien purred out, leaning close and wiggling his eyebrows. If Marinette hadn’t been pressed so close to him, she would have shoved him for the horrible pun so reminiscent of her partner’s. He was a boy after Chat Noir’s own heart, that was for certain. As it was, her arms were rather pinned between him and Alya, so she just settled on groaning loudly in protest. Unfortunately, that only seemed to egg the blonde on. Still, as Marinette stood pressed between the boy she loved and her best friend and listened to him rattle off his best (ahem,  _ worst _ ) puns, she couldn’t help the tiny smile curving her lips. How could she not smile, surrounded by three of the most important people in her life?

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and their moment ended abruptly when the sound of an explosion slit the air and the building quaked beneath them. Marinette knew instinctively that it was an Akuma, and her skin ran cold as she looked around at her fellow students on the Observation Deck. She needed to get off the deck, somewhere she could hide and transform, but with Madame Bustier and Chloe blocking the door and with her sandwiched between her friends, slipping away unnoticed would be a near impossible task. Another explosion sounded, this one sounding much closer, and the building quaked with the force of it forcing the friends to release each other in favor of clinging to the guard railing. Marinette knew this was the opportune time to try and slip away; the chaos of the attack would provide the perfect cover. Before she could move, however, the Akuma appeared before them, floating in the air just beyond the railing.

The Akuma was obviously a woman, her ample assets a dead giveaway. Her black hair was pulled into a severe bun, while amber eyes glittered maliciously in a too-pale face. From neck to toe, the Akuma wore a skin-tight bodysuit similar to the ones Ladybug and Chat Noir wore, but sleeker and shinier. Swirls of black, blue, purple, and green painted the suit, interspaced with sparkling white dots that appeared to be stars. It made sense when the Akuma spoke her name. “I am Galexia. For far too long, the people of earth have spurned the idea of life outside of our galaxy. I tire of your ignorance. It is time I educate you properly, starting with Earth’s next generation,” she spat out, her gaze raking over the assembled high school students. The Akuma swiped a black-gloved hand through the air and immediately glowing stars appeared before her.

“Look out!” Adrien shouted, instinctively grabbing those nearest to him and diving for the deck. The following explosions had Marinette’s ears ringing and her head spinning, but that wasn’t what had her heart stopping. No, what had her heart stopping was the sight of Alya disappearing over the edge of the Montparnasse Tower, because Adrien had dragged her and Nino down, but they had missed Alya. Alya, who had dug her heels in and slipped from her grasp in favor of capturing the latest Akuma victim on camera. Alya, who would do anything for her Ladyblog, even if that meant potentially losing her own life. The scream that ripped through the air was hysterical and animalistic and it took Marinette a moment to recognize that the scream was coming from her own mouth. She leaped up, ignoring Adrien’s shouts and flew to the edge of the tower. She didn’t hesitate to leap, the words already escaping her mouth even as she flung herself into oblivion.

“Tikki,  _ Spots On! _ ”

  
  


It all happened too fast for Adrien to properly react. One second, he was wrapped in his friend’s embrace with his best bud on one side and the girl he was beginning to like on the other side and then… and then the Akuma appeared. Adrien’s first instinct was to protect his classmates. After all, you don’t save Paris regularly going on four years now without developing some super strong protective instincts. Namely, he wanted to protect his three friends. They were closest to the railing, closest to the Akuma. They were in the most immediate danger. So when the Akuma finished her spiel and waved her hand, when the glowing stars appeared before her, he reacted purely on instinct.

“Look out!” The shout ripped from his throat as he tightened his hold on his friends and dove as the fresh explosions rang out, more concerned with their safety than the potential bruising they would have from hitting the hard floor of the Observation Deck. Glancing to his left, he was more than a little relieved to see Nino on the deck, hands covering his head in case of falling glass or rubble. He glanced to his right, and his relief was immense as he saw Marinette beneath his arm… until he looked past her, followed her gaze to where Alya was disappearing over the edge of the second tallest building in all of Paris. In his shock, his arm loosened around Marinette. A mistake he quickly realized as she leaped to her feet, an inhuman shriek escaping her as she flung herself towards the edge.

“Marinette,  _ don’t _ !” He shouted, already knowing his protest would come too late. He watched in horror as his friend, his most trusted confidante aside from Ladybug, the one girl who had been able to draw his affections away from his spotted Lady, threw herself over the edge and into oblivion. And then, her shouted words reached his ears like the sweetest of melodies.

“Tikki,  _ Spots On _ !”

Adrien scarcely dared to hope, but hope he did and he found himself scrambling for purchase on the crumbling Deck as he made his way rapidly to the edge. He was careful not to plummet off the edge of the broken roof as he leaned forward, eyes scanning desperately for a sign that his panic-addled brain wasn’t just hallucinating. For a moment, the only thing he could see was the heavy cloud of dust that seemed to encompass the face of the building thanks to the explosions and crumbling rubble. Then, red flashed in his peripheral and Adrien spun so quickly he was sure he would get whiplash. His heart sang with relief when he saw her in all of her red and black spotted glory. The ever-present Yo-Yo retracted as her feet touched the ground of the Observation Deck, this time well away from the broken guardrail, and she lowered a frazzled Alya to the unbroken portion of the Deck.

As Adrien stared at the woman he had loved for almost four years now, the glamour that protected their identities fell away and for the first time, he saw her for who she really was. The sweet, sometimes painfully shy, courageous girl that sat behind him in class. She was his Ladybug. She had been behind him all along, and he had been too blind and stupid to know it. The girl in the spotted suit straightened up, her eyes darting around as she took in the shell-shocked gazes of their classmates. Everyone on the deck had seen; everyone on the deck knew. She knew it, too. He could see it in the way her knees shook ever so slightly, in the way her shoulders curled in and her arms wrapped around her torso. She bit her lip gazing back at her classmates with uncertainty and insecurity in her blue eyes until the Akuma cackled loudly, drawing attention to herself. 

Like a flip being switched, Marinette faded away instantly in the face of their adversary and Ladybug took her place. It was a very physical and very obvious change. She stood taller, shoulders squared and back straight. Her stance widened slightly, Yo-Yo curled tightly in one fist, and her chin came up in defiance. Her eyes flashed with determination and an underlying anger. Anger at putting not only her classmates in danger but in almost taking the life of her best friend. Marinette had always been more willing to stand up for others than she was for herself, and nearly killing her best friend wouldn’t be allowed to slide. Abandoning Alya’s side, ignoring the shocked stares of her classmates, Ladybug strode across the crumbling observation deck and stood before Hawkmoth’s latest Akuma. When she spoke, her voice cracked with authority and power, promising retribution to those who didn’t follow her orders to a tee.

“Madame Bustier, get everyone off the Observation Deck and out of the building if possible. Take them somewhere safe and keep them there until Chat Noir and I defeat the Akuma,” she commanded. Madame Bustier didn’t hesitate, even knowing now that it was one of her own students giving the orders. Quickly, she began to gather her shocked students up and usher them to the stairwell leading down to the main floor of the Montparnasse Tower, while Ladybug turned back to the task at hand. Adrien watched her in awe for as long as he could before he was ushered along with the flow of other students, his last glimpse of her leaping into action before the doors closed behind him. He never did get a chance to slip away and transform, but that was okay because Ladybug… no, Marinette… was amazing. And even in the face of her worst fear coming true, she defeated the Akuma single-handedly with an almost scary precision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are in for a treat. I spent hours writing a ridiculously long chapter and then decided to split it down the middle, so you guys get TWO chapters instead of the intended one. Really I just started writing and could not stop xD The muse is so high with this story. I really expected to lose muse after that first chapter. Super pleased to be wrong
> 
> I'll be honest. This chapter is nothing but Angst and Drama and I'm not even going to try to apologize for what I did

The news traveled faster than a wildfire. By midnight, it was all over the television, on the radio, and plastered over the internet. By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, it would be in every newspaper across France; maybe even across Europe. Marinette had fled the scene of the Akuma Attack the second it was finished. She didn’t linger to comfort the confused victim as she usually did, she didn’t pause to talk to the press, and she most definitely didn’t dwell and ponder over the fact that for the first time in ages, her partner had failed to show up for an Akuma Attack. The dwelling and pondering would come later when she was locked in her darkened bedroom. Marinette practically crash landed on her balcony as transformation expired a second too soon and it was all she could do to catch her Kwami as she shot out of the earrings and dropped, too exhausted to keep herself aloft.

The speedy transformation Marinette had forced upon Tikki had sapped her energy, as had the Lucky Charm she had needed to defeat Galexia. It was fortunate that after three and a half years of being partners, Marinette had taken to keeping several stashes of cookies around the room. Clutching her Kwami close, the girl stumbled down the stairs almost as exhausted as her little companion, and did something she almost never did. She locked her trap door. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the news would reach her parents sooner rather than later. Her phone was already buzzing wildly with incoming calls and texts. She didn’t have the energy to deal with her parents or her friends, however. So she locked the trap door. It was for the best. In the morning, she would emerge from her room to tackle the problem she had created. But for now, she needed a moment to think and process. 

First things first, she got Tikki a box of cookies and settled her into the little Victorian-style dollhouse she had built on the one year anniversary of the day she met the tiny goddess. Tikki smiled gratefully as she nibbled on a cookie, but there was an obvious concern in her wide blue eyes. The young woman tried to shoot her a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes and they both knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. But Tikki also knew her holder needed time to think and process, to worry, before she would be willing to listen to the Kwami’s guidance. So she stayed quiet and nibbled on her cookie as the girl turned away and dropped into her desk chair. The room was silent, save for the constant buzzing of Marinette’s phone. It was on vibrate since she had been on the class field trip all day, and sitting on her desk it sounded insanely loud in the darkened room.

Still, she hesitated to pick it up. She knew what she would find when she did. Her classmates would have questions, first and foremost. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer; not to them and not to the news stations that would probably be arriving within the hour. After the questions (and after the shock faded slightly) there would be excitement. Her classmates, friends… people she had known for years would probably turn into little more than crazed fans. They would probably boast to the new stations about how they were all the best of buds. They were only human, after all. In a way, she understood. It was human nature to seek attention. She wouldn’t hold it against anyone. Eventually, when the buzzing got to be too much on her already frayed nerves, she snatched it up and powered it off. She didn’t check to see how many missed calls and unanswered texts she already had. She honestly didn’t want to know, considering the phone hadn’t stopped vibrating for the last fifteen minutes.

Leaving her phone abandoned on her desk, she pushed back in her desk chair and climbed slowly up the loft to her bed. She opened the hatch in her ceiling, relishing in the freezing air that instantly cooled her flushed face, and finally lay down, curling around the cat-shaped body pillow that had been on her bed since she was eight. She expected the tears to come then, but they didn’t. Emotions churned within her, too many to properly name them all. But she could identify a few. Fear, of course, was first and forefront. She was scared of what this would mean for her, for her parents, for her friends. She was afraid of what Hawkmoth might do, now that he knew her identity. Would he come after her family? Her friends? Would he use the people she loved against her in this seemingly never-ending war? Would her friends, some of which she had known since  _ Maternelle Petite _ , treat her differently now that they knew her secret? And what about the citizens she protected on a daily presence?  Of course, it was widely accepted that Paris’ superhero duo was relatively young, but now that they  _ knew _ it was a seventeen-year-old girl risking her life for them, would they still trust her? Would they still put their faith in her?

Anger and resentment came next, and though she did try to sort through the red-hot emotions coursing through her, she tried not to dwell on them for too long. Anger was the most negative of emotions and she couldn’t let her emotions guide Hawkmoth’s Akuma straight toward her. So yes, she was angry. She was angry at Hawkmoth. That was justified. Hawkmoth was a dick; he was  _ choosing _ to hurt Paris over and over again. She was angry at the Akuma. That was significantly less justified. The woman was an innocent, controlled by Hawkmoth to do his evil bidding. She was angry with the Akuma because she had been scared. Scared for her classmates, scared for her best friend, scared for her city. She was angry at the Akuma… but she had no right to be. She was also angry at Alya. That was pretty justified. She had told Alya countless times, as both Marinette and as Ladybug, that she needed to be careful. Alya had chosen to not hit the deck and take cover. But ultimately, it wasn’t her fault either and Marinette would forgive her. 

And then there was her partner, Chat Noir… was she angry at Chat Noir? She was definitely disappointed at his failure to show, and maybe a little hurt and confused too. Chat Noir had always been there when she needed him; from day one he had had her back. His support was unwavering and it wasn’t like him to just not show up. But no. No, she wasn’t angry at Chat Noir. This wasn’t his fault and placing the blame on him would be irresponsible and crappy. So no, she wasn’t angry at Chat Noir. She was angry at herself, however. True, she knew that at the end of the day she had saved a Civilian’s life (not to mention all of Paris). And not just any Civilian. Her best friend. The girl who had stuck by her side since they met in middle school; whose unwavering loyalty rivaled that of Chat Noir. Who stood up for her, defended her, protected her, encouraged her… Alya was irreplaceable and in the heat of the moment, Marinette had acted impulsively. She had sacrificed her identity to save a single person. It was stupid and childish and not very professional of her… but she refused to regret her actions. Alya was alive. Alya was still here because of  _ her _ . Because of  _ Ladybug _ . So yeah, maybe Marinette was a little angry at herself as well but she also knew she would do the same thing again in a heartbeat if it meant saving her best friend.

The rest of her emotions were a jumbled mess, too mixed up to even attempt to sort through. And she was tired. So incredibly tired. Marinette curled tighter around her cat-shaped body pillow and finally, the tears sprang to her eyes. She expected a torrent; a flood of tears and body-wracking sobs that would shake her bedframe with their force. But the tears were slow and steady, filling and leaking out of her eyes to trail down her cheeks and drip off her chin onto her body pillows head. There was no loud sobbing, just the occasional mournful whimper as her emotions continued to crash and swirl inside of her, and eventually she fell into a light, fitful sleep plagued with visions of crumbling buildings and crushed, broken bodies that kept her tears flowing and her hold on the pillow tightening periodically long into the night.

  
  
  


It seemed to take forever before Adrien found the time to transform. After he was dragged off the Observation Deck hours earlier, Adrien had found himself trapped in a crush of bodies descending the emergency stairs of the Montparnasse. It would seem not only their class was heading for the first floor. Everyone else in the building was as well and it made for utter chaos in the narrow stairwell. Adrien was helpless against the tide of people, his thoughts too jumbled to think straight, so he didn’t resist as they made the long trek down the stairs before being ushered out of the building and back onto the school bus. The ride back to school was filled with hushed whispered, most of which the young man tried to tune out. He had his own thoughts to worry about without letting the opinions of others invade his head. Unfortunately, the hush didn’t last nearly long enough. Not when Chloe Bourgeois was on board.

“Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!” Her too-loud voice rose up in the air about halfway back to their school, utterly shattering the hush. Everybody fell silent and turned toward Chloe, for once genuinely curious as to what she had to say. After all, Chloe had made no secret to the fact that Ladybug was her idol. In better circumstances, finding out that idol was also her self-proclaimed archnemesis would have been hilariously ironic. The blonde was standing between her seat and the back of the next, chin raised in haughty defiance as she glared down her nose at a properly cowed Sabrina. Whatever they had been talking about before had obviously riled the blonde diva.

“No, no, Chloe. I just-” she began.

“You just  _ what _ , Sabrina? Decided to take the side of that wannabe hero over  _ moi _ , your best friend?” She demanded, feigning a look of hurt that no one but Sabrina was stupid enough to actually believe. Not that the redhead was generally stupid. Sabrina was actually one of the smartest kids in class, right up there with Max Kante and Adrien himself. She had to be since she single-handedly managed to keep both her and Chloe’s grades up. But when it came to Chloe, the petite girl could be way too naive and trusting. The world gullible might better describe her than stupid.

“N-no! No, of course not, Chloe! I was just… well, it’s just…” The girl was obviously struggling and on the verge of tears but Chloe was merciless and without Marinette on board to defend her, no one else seemed willing to step in.

“Just  _ what _ ? Spit it out, Sabrina!  _ Gawd _ , you are so  _ dumb _ sometimes,” she sniffed, apparently unaffected by the tears now leaking from the girl’s sea green eyes.

“I just think you should delete the video and forget this ever happened!” The girl finally burst out, before immediately cringing in fear of her so-called friend’s wrath. It wasn’t Chloe who spoke up, however. It was Adrien, drawing all eyes in the bus towards him. Even Madame Bustier shot him a brief look of concern in the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road ahead.

“What video?” The boy asked softly, riding from his seat to frown at the pair. When neither girl responded, his voice hardened and took on a tone that was as lethal as it was quiet. “Chloe,  _ what _ video?”

“Okay, so I may have been filming when Maritrash became Ladybug,” the blonde finally admitted with a flippant wave. “So what?”

“So what?  _ Chloe _ , we’re the only ones who know about this. You have to delete that video before it gets into the wrong hands!” Adrien said, disbelief coloring his tone. The girl met his gaze head-on, jaw tightening stubbornly.

“And why should I? What do I owe  _ Maritrash _ ? Why should I keep her secret? Why should  _ any _ of us keep her secret?” The blonde swept a hand out to encompass the entirety of their class for emphasis. Adrien honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“She’s your idol, Chloe! You  _ love _ Ladybug. And you owe her your life! She has risked hers to save your life,  _ all _ of our lives, countless times. And she doesn’t do it for the praise or the adoring fans. She does it because it’s the right thing to do,” he pointed out. A murmur of agreement rose from the bus as everyone glared accusingly at the blonde.

“She  _ used _ to be my idol. That is until I found out it’s just  _ Marinette Dupain-Cheng _ under the mask,” the girl’s voice was scathing, dripping with hatred and jealousy. After all, why couldn’t  _ she _ be a superhero? She was better looking than Marinette. She was more  _ charming _ than Marinette. She had more money and connections than Marinette. She was better than Marinette in every way and it wasn’t  _ fair _ that she was getting all the glory. Since they were kids, everyone was always  _ Marinette _ this and  _ Marinette _ that. She had always been the more popular one, taking all of Chloe’s friends away; stealing the position of class president going on four years now. And then she had the gall to take her  _ Adrikiins _ away as well! Adrien was her oldest and dearest friend but even he was willing to side with some little nobody baker girl over his childhood friend. His  _ only _ friend, until she had had her daddy convince Gabriel Agreste to allow the boy to attend public school.

“Why do you hate Marinette so much?” Adrien asked, genuine concern in his gaze. And Chloe bristled because she hated how condescending Adrien sounded in that moment. Who was he to patronize  _ her _ , after all that she had done for him? She was the reason he had friends. She was the reason he was no longer some socially awkward loser who never left the house.

“Because Marinette gets  _ everything! _ ” Chloe screeched, stomping her foot and clutching her phone tighter. She brought the device to her chest protectively, unwilling to lose this advantage she had against her nemesis. “Did you know we used to be best friends, Adrien? Huh? Well, we were. And she took  _ everything _ that should have been mine!”

“Chloe, what on earth are you talking about?” Adrien asked, genuinely puzzled. Vaguely, he did remember Chloe mentioning a best friend when they were really little. Maybe five or six. She had just called her Mary, though, and he had never made the connection to Marinette. Not with how much the blonde hated her. When they were kids though, she talked about this Mary girl constantly. How smart she was, how pretty she was, and how talented she was. How she would be a famous fashion designer like ‘Uncle Gabriel’, or maybe even a better one. Chloe had been utterly infatuated with the girl and then, one day out of the blue, all mentions of her pigtailed best friend had stopped. Adrien had never been able to pry the truth out of her.

“Oh, Marinette was  _ so _ popular. Everyone wanted to be her friend and I felt  _ so _ special that she wanted to play with  _ me _ . I didn’t even care at first, that the other kids never talked to me because I had  _ her _ and I had  _ you _ and that’s all I ever needed,” she spat, the fingers of her free hand flexing agitatedly. Adrien shifted uncomfortably, fearful that Chloe’s volatile emotions might prompt yet another Akuma. Was it even possible for someone to be Akumatized twice? It hadn’t happened yet, aside from Stoneheart but that was only because they forgot to purify the Akuma the first time. That hadn’t happened ever since.

“But then Marinette started hanging out with the other kids. It started slowly at first; I didn’t even notice in the beginning. But more and more she started hanging out with the other kids, and she spent less time with  _ me _ ! Oh, I  _ tried _ to join in, play nice… but the others wanted nothing to do with  _ me _ . They only wanted perfect little Marinette Dupain-Cheng with her homemade dresses and those  _ stupid _ pigtails,” the blonde hissed. 

“And that’s not even the worst part! No, she didn’t just steal all the attention from our classmates. She had to steal my mother’s attention too! You know what Maman told me before she died, Adrikiins? Do you? She told me she wished I could be more like Marinette. That I wasn’t so spoiled and self-centered. She said she wished Marinette was her daughter instead of me and then she  _ died _ , Adrien! She  _ died _ and those were the last words she ever spoke to me!”

Adrien was at a loss, unsure how to handle this situation. The blonde was in near hysterics now, tears tracking her cheeks and makeup running, and he  _ wanted _ to help her. He did. Chloe might be hard to understand but she was loyal and she was his oldest friend and he did love her, like a sister at least. He wanted to make the hurt go away, to help her let go of this grudge she was holding, but he didn’t know how. “Chlo,” he breathed, stepping out into the aisle with a soft look on his face. “Chlo, Marinette would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, I’m sure of it. That’s not the kind of person she is. Look just… delete the video, and we can figure all of this out, okay?”

The girl stared at him for a long moment, a myriad of emotions shifting across her tear-streaked face, before her sky blue eyes finally hardened into anger once more. Swiping away the tears and what she could of her ruined makeup with her free hand, she scowled accusingly at the blonde. “You don’t get it. You  _ still _ don’t get it, Adrikiins! I  _ want _ Marinette to suffer the way  _ I _ suffered. I want her to have to experience the pain of being bypassed over and over again for someone better. What better way to do that than to expose her and then  _ every _ body will look at her and see Ladybug as her better half.”

“Chloe,” Adrien growled, taking a step closer with a clear warning on his face.

“Not another step, Adrichou! This was a long time coming. She deserves this for what she did to me. Now,  _ she _ will have to second guess whether people are around her because they genuinely like  _ her _ or because she’s a superhero.” The blonde grinned, a maniacal gleam in her blue eyes, and Adrien lunged. But he was too far away, and no one was faster at texting than Chloe Bourgeois. Chloe, who was the mayor’s daughter. Chloe, who had hundreds if not thousands of people in her phone contacts. Famous people, people from their school, important dignitaries and diplomats, people from television and newspapers all over France and Europe…. And with the click of a button, Chloe Bourgeois sent proof of Ladybug’s secret identity to  _ everyone _ she knew _. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the last angsty, drama-filled chapter I give you... more angst. BUT, I also give you an interesting bit of history on the Miraculous and their holders and fluff. Because this is going to be a pretty angsty fic and we could all use more MariChat fluff in this fandom. Am I right, or am I right? Good answer! Of course, I'm right! 
> 
> Happy reading, lovelies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I double posted, guys! Please make sure you read chapter two or you will be somewhat lost as to what's going on in this chapter!

Adrien sighed, exhausted, as hours after Chloe had decided to broadcast Ladybug’s Secret Identity via mass text he finally found himself home and alone in his massive bedroom after being forced to sit through an excruciating dinner with his father. Of course, the man infamous for standing up his own son countless times would choose  _ today _ of all days to decide they would eat together. That was just the kind of shitty luck that befell the wearer of the Black Cat’s ring. But now, it was over and done with. After pushing his food around his plate for the better part of an hour, only taking a few bites that he couldn’t even taste because he was so worried about his spotted partner, he had finally been able to feign a headache and retired to his room early. His father never checked up on him, and believing he was going to bed early meant Nathalie would stay away as well. She wouldn’t want to risk waking him, after all. 

“Are you ready, Plagg?” He asked, glancing towards his cat-like Kwami. Green eyes flicked his way before he tossed the rest of his camembert into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

“Ready,” he confirmed. For once, Plagg didn’t argue or complain about being forced to transform. He knew how serious the situation was, and if he were being completely honest he was worried about how Tikki’s little bug was faring with the whole ordeal. Of course, he had known her identity since the whole Dark Owl incident, but Tikki had sworn him to secrecy and he would do anything for his little lovebug. Which is why he knew that Tikki’s bug was prone to panic attacks. He had seen and heard her both before and after he found out her identity, freaking out about the most trivial things (in his opinion). This… this was no trivial thing and while the Miraculous did provide some immunity to the Akumas, there was still a chance they could break through that magical protection if the negative emotions were permitted to run rampant. That’s why the baby bug needed her kitten. He would calm her, assuage her fears and soothe her with his very presence. Tikki’s bugs were almost always the leaders in the duo, making the hard and fast decisions, planning and organizing and implementing caution to temper the chaos that was the black cat. However, as self-sufficient as the bugs always were, they would be lost without their black cats. 

Plagg’s kittens had been keeping Tikki’s bugs sane for millennia now. Sure, the black cats were volatile creatures that thrived on darkness and destruction, but when paired with their Ladybugs, they were… well, not  _ tame _ perse, but grounded. They kept their bugs mentally healthy, while the bugs kept them from their self-destructive natures. It was the job of the black cat, after all, to protect their other half, be it from physical attack or mental. The ladybug, in turn, provided direction to the cat. It’s why they were meant to be, for all eternity. Why they would inevitably stay together in every one of their lives, be it as romantic partners or platonically. There were some who were best friends, or siblings (whether biologically or they simply saw each other as a brother/sister figure), and very occasionally when there was a vast age difference between the two, they could take on a mentor/apprentice or parent/child relationship. 

It didn’t really matter  _ how _ they stayed together. Only that they did, to balance one another out and bring harmony to their era. Of course, there were times when the Black Cat and Ladybug were enemies, forcing Plagg and Tikki to fight against their other half. Those few instances were always excruciatingly painful for the Kwami and the Holders, and they always ended badly, usually in the destruction of both the bug and the cat. The Ladybug’s Earrings of Creation and the Black Cat’s Ring of Destruction were not meant to fight one another; they came into creation at the same time. They were the first Kwami to ever come into existence, the first pair to ever exist, followed closely by Wayzz and Trixx who represented Wisdom and Deception, Duusu and Nooroo who represented Vanity and Generosity, and of course Pollen who represents both Loyalty and Disloyalty (depending on the holder, usually), the only Kwami not born with another half. Like the cat and bug team, the others were rarely brought into use unless their other half was activated as well. Being in different dimensions was usually deemed too painful for the pair. Which is why now, in her hour of need, it was imperative that Chat Noir go to his bug and bring her back from the brink of darkness. 

“Plagg,  _ Claws Out! _ ” Adrien commanded, a look of determination on his face. The Kwami was sucked into the ring and almost before the transformation was complete, Chat Noir was bounding onto the windowsill and out into the freezing night air. The winter chill was sharp enough to penetrate even his magical suit, causing the boy to shiver slightly, but the night was mercifully clear as he vaulted his way across the Parisian rooftops. It wasn’t the first time he had been to Marinette’s home, as either Chat or Adrien, and by this point, he knew the way by heart. He paused as he reached the rooftop across from hers, narrowed green eyes focused on the ground. Despite the late hour, the streets and sidewalks surrounding  _ Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie _ were teeming with people. News Vans were parked haphazardly on both sides of the street and news reporters were clamoring near the bakery’s front doors demanding answers. Someone must have called the police, whether it was the Dupain-Cheng’s or perhaps Sabrina had called in a favor with her father, the one small bit of defiance she could do against Chloe Bourgeois, because a police barrier had been erected before the front doors, keeping the reporters from banging on the door and breaking anything.

In the apartment above, he noticed a flicker of movement in one of the windows and looked up, hoping to see Marinette, but it was her mother. The little Chinese woman looked physically and mentally drained and with his enhanced eyesight, he could see the red rimming her eyes and nose that meant she had been crying. He didn’t blame her. He kind of wanted to cry on Marinette’s behalf as well. Ladybug could handle the press with ease, but Marinette was a lot more vulnerable outside the mask. A lot more susceptible to her insecurities. As the curtain fell back over the window, hiding the woman from view once more, Chat turned his attention to the rooftop balcony and leaped, slipping over the railing and onto the shadowed balcony as quietly as his namesake. He paused, listening carefully to the crowd below, but it didn’t sound like anyone had seen him.

Relieved, he turned away and was surprised and a little annoyed to find the trap door leading down to Marinette’s bedroom wide open. Surely the girl had more sense than that. What if an eager reporter had managed to bypass the barrier and somehow climb up to the balcony? He could have slipped right in! And what is Hawkmoth- that thought sent a bolt of fear straight to his heart. What if Hawkmoth sneaked in while she was alone and vulnerable and stole her Miraculous!? What if she was mortally wounded, her parents none the wiser just one floor down!?

“Princess!?” Chat hissed, still mindful of the many ears down below despite his panicked urgency. Crossing the balcony in a single bound, he was about to drop into the room when he saw the girl in question curled up into a ball in the middle of her bed. She was curled into a fetal position around the cat-shaped body pillow he had seen numerous time; had teased her about on a few occasions as Chat, playfully offering himself as an ‘upgraded model’ to the pillow. Marinette had always giggled and given his gold bell a playful flick, something he now realized was a totally Ladybug thing to do, and assured him that she liked her current model quite fine, thank you very much. Creeping closer until he was crouched on the very edge of the hatch, he hesitated. He kind of felt like a creep, lingering here while she was asleep in her bed, but he didn’t know whether she would welcome his presence in her room right now. Or at all, for that matter.

At the same time, Chat was loathe to leave her like this, with all those people downstairs just waiting to tear her apart. She looked so small curled around that stupid cat pillow with its  _ stupidly _ smug smile and- oh great, he was officially jealous of a goddamned pillow. That was a new low, even for him, and he was about to retreat to the little couch she had on her balcony, willing to endure the cold until she woke up, when she spoke suddenly in a strained whisper.

“ _ Chat _ .” Welp, that was enough of an invitation for this particular tomcat. Dropping into the room, he was careful to land on the loft’s platform rather than the bed itself, not wanting to jostle the girl unnecessarily. The room was dark, the only light coming from the think moonlight streaming through the overhead hatch, but his enhanced vision made it easy to see. On all fours, the young man crept hesitantly to the side of the bed, expression uncertain.

“Princess?” He murmured quietly. Marinette squirmed on the bed, her hold on the cat pillow tightening until she was practically strangling the stuffing out of it, and began to mumble quietly under her breath. So quietly, he couldn’t even make out what she was saying. He leaned closer, ears pricked to try and pick out actual words from the low hum of her mumbling.

“ _ No _ ,” she mumbled, twisting away from him as her face scrunched up. “ _ No. No, no, no. Chat. No. No. No. Nononono-” _

Chat pulled back, concerned as he watched her sweat slickened brow continue to furrow, her voice growing steadily louder and it was then he realized she wasn’t talking to him. She was dreaming. Or… having a nightmare, by the sounds of it. Worried, he reached out with one clawed hand and shook her shoulder gently. When that didn’t work, he shook her a bit harder. The girl was crying silently now, still switching between mumbling  _ no _ over and over again and whining his name in a tone that was breathless with fear. She was only growing more agitated, her breathing became labored, so Chat did the only thing he  _ could _ do. He slapped her.

The girl jolted, eyes flashing open as she flew upright, but it was like she was still locked in the nightmare. Her blue eyes were vacant, staring straight ahead over his shoulder at nothing in particular, fear and horror mixing in their cerulean depths as she openly sobbed now. Chat Noir was scared. In fact, he had only ever been this scared three times before, once as Chat Noir when he had watched Ladybug leap into the mouth of a T-Rex and twice as Adrien. Once, years ago, when his mother disappeared without a trace and then again, earlier today when he had watched his best friend fling herself off of a nearly seven hundred foot tall building, in that split second before she called upon her transformation and he truly thought he was going to lose her. Forgoing any sense of propriety he previously had that had kept him from encroaching on the girl’s bed, Chat slid before her and took her shoulders in his hands.

“Marinette.  _ Marinette _ .  _ Princess _ , you have to wake up,” he said, shaking her gently. It took several long minutes that to him, felt like an eternity, but slowly awareness entered her bluebell eyes. For a second she looked confused and mildly queasy as if perhaps the lingering remnants of her nightmare made her sick to her stomach. Then her eyes focused on his and recognition and relief filled her gaze.

“ _ Chat _ ,” she breathed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Chat froze briefly, before slowly folding her into her arms and returning the hug. Marinette pressed her face into his throat, her shoulders shaking as she cried, and if the dampness was a little uncomfortable well, Chat wasn’t about to say anything that would make her remove herself from his arms.

“Ch-Chat,” she said after a moment, pulling back to blink at him wide-eyed. “Chat I have to tell you something,” she whispered.

“Shh, Princess. It’s okay, I already know,” he murmured, pulling her back into his arms. She allowed him to hug her a moment longer before pushing back once more, face a mask of apprehension.

“H-how bad is it? B-be honest,” she pleaded. Chat hesitated, half-tempted to hide the truth from her, but it wouldn’t do her any good aside from providing some very temporary relief. She would find out soon enough and besides, he could never lie to his Lady.

“It’s pretty bad, bugaboo,” he admitted, reaching one clawed hand up to gently brush a strand of damp hair from her forehead. His fingers lingered, claw tips trailing oh-so-gently down her face until he cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and releasing a shaky breath, and he found himself brushing his thumb back and forth across the smooth skin of her cheek and tracing her delicate bone structure that he had spent hours admiring from afar. God, how he wished to be rid of these stupid gloves once and for all.

“I had a feeling,” she mumbled, shoulders slumping dejectedly. Chat was silent for several long moments, his thumb never ceasing its movements. He chewed on his lip apprehensively before finally voicing the question on his mind.

“Hey, Princess?” He asked nervously.

“Yeah, Chat?” She responded, keeping her eyes shut as he kept up the soothing movements of his thumb.

“I want… that is to say… can I… Can I tell you who I am?” He struggled to get the words out and when he finally did, he held his breath. Hoping against hope but expecting the worse all the same. Her bluebell eyes popped open, blinking at him in surprise, and he could read the answer in her gaze before she even said a word.

“Chat,” she breathed slowly, lips tugging down into a frown. He pulled back, dropping his hand from his face and retreating into himself in his disappointment. Rejection was a real bitch. Maybe even worse than Karma.

“It’s okay. I understand,” he whispered. Marinette flinched at the absolutely devastated expression on his face that he was trying, and epically failing, to hide. He looked like a kicked puppy. Er… kitten.

“ _ No,  _ Chat, you don’t. Look I’m not saying never, okay? When all this is over, I would really, really love to get to know the guy hiding behind that mask. But my family is already at risk because my actions and I will  _ not _ put you or anyone else in danger because of my own selfish desires,” she said firmly. The boy looked up, green eyes wide and hopeful.

“You’ll really let me show you one day?” He asked.

“Yes. Yes, I promise, Chat. As soon as this is all over, I will be more than happy to meet my best friend face to face,” she breathed, cupping his cheek affectionately before pulling him into a hug. Chat returned the hug tightly, trying not to let the way she said ‘friend’ discourage him. After all, she was his best friend too. She just also happened to be the girl he was crazy about; the girl he had somehow managed to fall in love with both in and out of the mask. He would just have to be patient. Once Hawkmoth was defeated, he could show her who he was and start trying to win her over without the mask on. Surely the efforts of both his alter ego and his civilian identity could manage to get this amazing girl before him to agree to at least one date, and then he would pull out all the stops and plan the most amazing date ever and she would fall madly in love with him. They would be married, have three kids, a cat, and a hamster-Marinette loved hamsters-and they would live happily ever after. It was perfect. All he needed to do was make sure they both lived to see Hawkmoth’s defeat.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, for a long time after that. Eventually, exhaustion won out and Marinette began to drift back to sleep. Chat tried to tuck her in, but when he tried to extricate himself she whined quietly in protest. “Stay,” she pleaded, a flicker of fear entering her eyes as she clung to him. She didn’t want the nightmares to come back; didn’t want to see the horrifying images of Chat disappearing over the edge of the Montparnasse Tower instead of Alya. She definitely didn’t want to see his broken and battered body at the base of the tower, when she inadvertently failed to save him. Chat hesitated, but there really was no denying this girl. So after a moment, he crawled under the covers with her, holding his arms out in invitation.

Marinette didn’t hesitate to fold herself into his arms, pressing her face into his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of wind and leather and pine as she drifted off in a much more peaceful sleep. Chat, meanwhile, didn’t sleep a wink that night, but that was okay. He had always been Ladybug’s Knight in Shining Black Leather, after all. Her sword and her shield. And if the only demons he could protect her from at the moment were the ones that stalked her through her dreams, well then he would lay awake for a thousand nights to ensure her dreams were as sweet as she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette deals with the aftermath of her reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned. I'm exhausted because I've been working 8hr days since Wednesday and had to find someone to cover my shift tomorrow so I can get a decent nights rest... but I have started chapter five and it's on my list of chapters to finish and post tomorrow when I wake up!

Marinette was slow to wake up the next morning. In her bed, still wrapped securely in the leather-clad arms of her partner, everything was warm and safe. She knew she couldn’t stay in bed forever. She had school today, a math test to take… and her parents. What did they think about all of this? By now, news had to have spread across Paris like a wildfire. She was honestly surprised her parents weren’t attempting to break open her trap door by now. Now that she thought about it, it didn’t even sound as if they were in the main apartment. Straining to listen, she couldn’t hear the normal murmur of the television or the shuffling sounds of movement. She couldn’t hear her mother at the stove or her father’s booming laughter as they went about their morning routine. Had they opened the bakery this morning? Considering all that had happened yesterday, surely they would have left the bakery closed? Was it possible that they _hadn’t_ heard the news? Was it possible _Paris_ hadn’t heard the news? Maybe… maybe her classmates atop the tower had kept quiet? Maybe no one else had seen and she was just freaking out over nothing...

Finally opening her eyes, the girl carefully extricated herself from her partner’s hold. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly, and judging from the bags under his eyes it was a recent development. Had her silly Chaton really stayed up all night just to watch over her? _Yes_ , the answer popped immediately into her head and she really couldn’t dispute it. That was exactly something Chat Noir would do. He knew how important her identity was to her; they had argued over it enough times already. He must know how much revealing herself would impact her, even if by some miracle she had only managed to spill the secret to her classmates. Smiling fondly down at the leather-clad male, she slowly slipped down the ladder to her loft and paused in the center of the room to stretch, causing her muscles to creak and pop.

“You’re awake,” Tikki said, poking her head out of one of the windows in the dollhouse before floating over to hover before her Holder’s face. “We need to talk.”

“Look, Tikki. I know I screwed up and I’m really, really-”

“I’m not mad,” Tikki interrupted, blue eyes softening. Marinette blinked in surprise. After all, it was Tikki who had gone on and on in the beginning about the importance of secret identities and why she couldn’t even tell her partner who she was.

“You… you’re not mad?” She asked in confusion. The Kwami shook her head.

“Marinette, what you did was admirable. You saved your best friend and I wouldn’t be a very good friend to you if I judged you for doing what you thought was the right thing,” she explained.

“But I-”

“You made a choice. You had no time to think, only to act. And your instinctive action was to protect, to save. You didn’t think about yourself, or what it might mean for you. Your only thought was of Alya. You’re a good person, Marinette, and I couldn’t ask for a more worthy Ladybug,” the Kwami smiled affectionately and snuggled into the stunned girl’s cheek for a moment before pulling back. “That being said, we do need to decide how we’re going to handle all this from now on.”

“Right… I guess the first thing to do would be to figure out how bad it is?” Marinette suggested, crossing the room to drop down into her computer chair and swiping the mouse to wake up the computer screen. Her collage of Adrien pictures was long gone, replaced instead by a picture of the two of them together. It was one of their most recent pictures together, taken on Halloween when the four friends had dressed up to go to a Halloween Party that Chloe was throwing. Marinette had dressed up as Chat Noir, black cat ears sitting atop her head. Her leather catsuit had been handmade, though she had altered it to be a bit more feminine. For example, the bell remained but was attached to a big red bow, and instead of pants, she wore a skirt over black leggings. Adrien had dressed up as Ladybug (or Ladybeetle as he had called himself) and the second he had seen her decked out in her costume, he’d insisted they take a selfie together.

She had also taken all the magazine clippings of Adrien down. In their place were pictures of her with her friends and yeah, Adrien dominated most of them, but that’s because they spent so much time together these days and her friends seemed to like taking pictures no matter what they were doing. Logging into her computer, she pulled up the browser and typed “Ladybug” into the search bar, bracing herself before she hit 'enter'. felt sick when the search loaded and hundreds of News sites popped up, all claiming the same title: _Ladybug Revealed!?!_

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki breathed, eyes flickering between her charge and the computer screen in concern. “Are you okay?”

The girl didn’t respond for a long moment. She felt numb, her only emotion an acute sense of dread that washed through her from head to toe. It took a long moment for her to make herself move the mouse and click on a link at random. The site that popped up was for the news station that Nadja Chamack worked for, and apparently, they were streaming live. Cautiously, she clicked on the video and waited for it to load. When it did, she honestly felt like she was going to cry. Or puke. Maybe she would do both. The cameraman seemed to be standing in the street, which gave them a clear view of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery behind Nadja… and the massive crowd of people surrounding it. Madame Chamack was speaking, but Marinette couldn’t hear what she was saying over the ringing in her ears.

Everyone knew. Her friends knew, her parents knew, Hawkmoth knew… hell, the whole of Paris had to know by now. Everyone watched Channel 5. Madame Chamack was the most popular newscaster in all of France right now. Oh man, she really felt sick now. She knew eventually she would have to face everyone, but the thought made her want to crawl in a whole and curl up for all eternity. Ladybug was good at this sort of thing. She was a bit awkward in front of the cameras but she was eloquent and confident. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, whereas Marinette cowered at the very thought of going down and facing that crowd. What would she even say to those people? How would they react knowing a teenager was the one who had been protecting them for the last three and a half years? Would they be shocked? Disappointed? What if they were angry at her!? What if they asked her to resign? How would she handle it, if the people she had protected for years now told her that they didn’t want her? Could she do it? Give up her Earrings and Tikki? No, that was a stupid question. Of course she couldn’t. Ladybug was a part of her and Tikki was her friend. Besides, at the end of the day, Paris still needed her and she still had a job to do and a Miraculous to retrieve. Then again, what if-

A leather-clad arm reached past her and clicked the monitor off, immediately making the screen go dark and the sound in the video cut off. She didn’t turn to look at him immediately. She couldn’t. Shame burned through her like a wildfire. This was all her fault, because she had been a stupid and incompetent hero. He must be so disappointed to have her as a- “Marinette, look at me.”

His voice was soft and gentle, coaxing. She shook her head vehemently. It was her fault. It was all her fault. He should be mad at her. She had revealed herself to the world before she revealed herself for her. It wasn’t fair! She had it all planned out, too. How they would eventually defeat Hawkmoth, and Ladybug would ask Chat Noir to meet her at their usual spot at midnight the following day. How when he arrived, she would tell him how much fun she had had fighting crime with him. How she had loved being his partner all these years, and was so happy to have met him. She would tell him that she didn’t want to risk losing him, if they one day had to give back the Miraculous, and then she would release her transformation and finally stand before him as Marinette. And if Chat still wanted to reveal himself to her, that was up to him. But if not, that's okay too. She had never imagined it would turn out this way.

“Marinette. Bugaboo,” Chat pulled her desk chair back and crouched in front of her, but still, she avoided his gaze. Chat Noir was too nice for his own good. He should be yelling at her; not trying to make her feel better. She was more than a little ashamed to admit that if their roles had been reversed, she would probably be yelling at him for being so impulsive. “Hey, it’s going to be alright.”

“No, it’s not!” She burst out, finally meeting his gaze. “It’s _not_ . The whole world knows, Chat. _Hawkmoth_ knows. My family, all my friends- they’re in danger because of _me_ ,” she whispered the final part brokenly as the first of her tears began to spill down her cheeks.

“We’ll get through this, my Lady,” he promised, and she had to look away again because he looked absolutely heartbroken for _her_ and it hurt to know how much he cared when she had been nothing but a bad friend and partner to him for years. For _years_ she had brushed him off, refused to let him in, and he was still her, for her. She didn’t deserve him.

“How?” She finally asked, and there was bitterness lacing her tone.

“We’re the Cat and Bug Team, remember? We can do anything!”

Finally, a small smile curved her lips as she brought her gaze back to his. “I think you mean the Bug and Cat Team,” she mumbled, and his answering grin was absolutely vibrant.

“That’s my girl.”

  
  


Realistically, Marinette knew she had to face her parents sooner or later. Nothing good had ever come from putting off a problem so, when her tears had dried and the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness had somewhat failed, she finally headed into her closet to find something to wear. Chat Noir obediently turned his back on her and covered his eyes while she got dressed, but there was no hiding the way his ears turned pink in embarrassment. She found it ridiculously endearing, and honestly, it reminded her of Adrien. Whenever he was feeling embarrassed his ears and cheeks turned bright red as well. She eventually settled on a pair of baggy pink sweatpants and a tank top, then threw an oversized gray hoodie on for good measure. If she could help it, she wasn’t planning on leaving the house today. Maybe not even tomorrow. If she was really lucky, maybe her parents would let her move to Timbuktu and she could buy a herd of sheep and live in the mountains as a shepherdess. Yeah, probably not.

Once she was dressed, there was really no putting it off anymore. She could procrastinate all she wanted but her parents were undoubtedly worried sick and being kind enough to allow her a bit of privacy to come to terms with the reveal. It wasn’t right to keep them waiting. Chat, naturally, offered to go downstairs with her but she politely declined. She needed to do this alone and honestly, she didn’t know how her parents would react if they knew a boy had spent the night in her room, in her bed, even if it was one hundred percent innocent because Chat was her best friend. Chat Noir, of course, was completely understanding and promised he would be there when she got back, but to maybe knock because he wanted to rest his Kwami for a bit. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought about that and now, as she unlocked the trap door, she felt a little bad. His Kwami was probably exhausted and she resolved to bring him up a treat when she returned. Her partner had complained several times in the past about his Kwami’s obsession with Camembert, and living in a bakery they were sure to have some lying around somewhere.

The stairs creaked loudly in the silence of the apartment as she descended the stairs, hands wringing nervously in front of her. She found her parents waiting for her on the couch, their hands clasped together. They looked up when she reached the landing and it was like a punch to the gut, seeing the remnants of tears on both of their faces. They rose as she crossed the living room, and when she stopped hesitantly in front of them, unsure of what to do next, they opened their arms and invitation. Marinette was honestly getting quite tired of crying, but she couldn’t stop the flow of tears as her parents held her tight in their embrace and whispered quiet reassurances. She should have known they wouldn’t be mad. When had Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng ever lost their cool?

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, tightening her arms around both of them as she pressed her face into her father’s chest. “I’m so, _so_ sorry I didn’t tell you about being Ladybug.”

“Shh, Marinette. It’s going to be okay,” her mother murmured, running her fingers through her loose black locks. She hadn’t bothered to tie them back into pigtails after taking them out for bed last night.

“I-It’s not okay, though! I let the whole world find out who I am and now you’re in danger and it’s all my fault!” She wailed, the sound slightly muffled by her father’s shirt.

“You saved your best friend’s life, Marinette. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Tom added kindly, shooting a concerned look at his wife over their daughter’s head.

“How are you not mad at me?” She finally pulled back enough to look up at them and confusion creased her brow. But though their gazes were sad, there were affectionate smiles on both of their faces.

“We are disappointed you didn’t tell us about all this… and curious as to how you came to be Ladybug in the first place. However, we understand why you felt the need to keep it a secret. And while we will always fear for your life, we would never ask you to give up something you love doing, mon Cherie. Paris needs you. It needs Ladybug,” her mother explained, cupping her face and smiling affectionately.

“That being said, we really would love to know how you came to have superpowers,” Tom added, causing the three of them to dissolve into shaky laughter. Eventually, they ended up on the couch and Marinette did just that. She explained how she had helped the old man on her first day of Middle School three and a half years ago, and how she had later found the strange box on her desk the day Ivan Bruel was Akumatized into Hawkmoth. She told them about the rush she got when she was flying over the city as Ladybug; the thrill that came when she purified one of the butterflies. She introduced them to Tikki, and when prompted she transformed into Ladybug to show them how it worked.

Overall, her parents were more understanding that even she could have expected. She truly was blessed to have them as her parents, to have Chat Noir as a friend and partner, and to have met Tikki who had become one of the most important people in her life. When Marinette was done explaining _how_ she had come into her powers, her parents listening with rapt interest, her mother finally broached the subject that she had thus far avoided.

“We need to figure out what to tell people, sweetheart,” she said gently, wrapping an arm around the girl’s waist and giving a light squeeze. Marinette nodded slowly, closing her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath.

“What’s there to tell, _maman_ ? Someone spilled the beans. Everyone _already_ knows,” she pointed out dejectedly.

“Yes, but someone needs to tell your story. The full story. The reporters won’t go away unless you do,” Tom pointed out with an apologetic look. Marinette nodded. Eventually, she would have to give her story to someone. If she did, the other reporters might leave her alone. She certainly couldn’t go to school while that mob was out there. So she took a deep breath and steeled herself, before finally giving a decisive nod.

“Alya. I’ll tell my story to Alya. I won’t speak to any other reporters,” she said firmly. Her parents nodded. They both understood.

“I’ll go call Alya now,” Sabine said, rising from the couch.

“I’ll make something to eat,” Tom offered, getting up as well. They both took a moment to kiss their daughter on the forehead before turning away.

“Oh! Papa, can you get me a plate of camembert?” Marinette asked awkwardly. Her father nodded, while her mother shot her an amused and knowing look over her shoulder.

“When you come back down, bring that nice boy Chat Noir with you. It’s about time we met the fellow who’s been protecting our little girl all this time,” Sabine said with a wide grin and a wink. Blushing hotly, Marinette spun around and scurried to her room, while her parents chuckled behind her. Still, there was an affectionate smile on her face as she ascended the stairs. Truly, she couldn’t have asked for better or more supportive parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir meets the family and Marinette and Alya must deal with the aftermath of all the lies and secrets she's told/kept over the last few years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duuude. I went to bed early last night (midnight is super early for me) and told myself I would sleep in... only to wake up at five am. Finishing this up, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Still am tbh. So I finished writing this and it took longer than intended because my sister and 1yr old nephew woke up and one-year-olds are distracting when they're obsessed with your laptop.
> 
> But anything, here's the chapter as promised. We'll get to see the interview between Alya and Marinette in the next chapter. The ending of this chapter kind of popped into my head and was too good to pass up so I decided to end it this way instead of with an awkward interview question xD

Chat Noir was in love with her parents, apparently. After she had brought him the cheese for his Kwami, she had returned downstairs to give him a minute, reciting her mother’s invitation just before the trap door closed behind her. It wasn’t ten minutes before the blonde, leather-clad boy was slinking down the stairs, very reminiscent of his namesake, with his green eyes wide and nervous. That nervousness all but disappeared the second her  _ Papa _ had engulfed him in a bear hug powerful enough to lift the poor boy off his feet. Chat Noir denied it vehemently, but she still thinks there were tears in his eyes as her parents fussed and coddled him. After the introductions were out of the way, Tom insisted the children play video games while he and Sabine made pancakes, eggs, and bacon for breakfast for the four of them.

It was a nice distraction, and she was amused and thrilled to find a worthy opponent for Ultimate Mecha Strike VI in Chat. She still wiped the floor with him, naturally, but he put up a good fight all the same. The pair were locked in a debate over which game was better in the franchise (Chat stood by the third, much like Adrien, while she preferred the fourth) when her parents called them to breakfast. They all sat down around the dining room table, and while Chat was a little reserved at first he was soon scarfing down the food like a starved man presented with a feast. Marinette wasn’t really surprised. She had noticed long ago as Ladybug that Chat Noir was too skinny and had learned it was because he was on a strict diet for work. Unfortunately, that diet didn’t account for the calories burned as Chat Noir so she had started bringing him pastries and quiches and other high calorie treats every time they patrolled.

Chat was on his third helping, at Tom’s hearty insistence, when the doorbell rang. Marinette stiffened visibly, her eyes widening with apprehension, while her mother and father went to answer the door. The back door that led directly into the stairwell for the upstairs apartment was locked and had thus far not been mobbed by people thanks to the police barricade. Alya, of course, had the key and Sabine had let Officer Raincomprix know to let her through, but there was still the chance that someone else had gotten through the barricade and broken in. Perhaps sensing her distress, Chat stopped shoving his face with food long enough to lay a comforting hand over hers and flash her a reassuring smile. She smiled shyly in response.

Her fears, it seemed, were unfounded because when the door opened the sound of Alya’s familiar voice floated towards the kitchen. Of course, that didn’t mean Marinette relaxed. If anything, she tensed up even more as the voices moved closer, her hands wringing together in agitation. Chat shot her a concerned look as the voices finally stopped, and she slowly swiveled in her chair to face her best friend. 

She wasn’t alone, which wasn’t exactly surprising. Even before they had started dating, Nino had often been roped into being Alya’s cameraman whenever the aspiring reporter scored a sit-down interview with one of her idols. He was standing off to the side with her parents, looking between the two girls apprehensively. Marinette and Alya had always been inseparable; ever since they first became friends back in middle school. They were a duo, almost as iconic as Ladybug and Chat Noir. The few times they had fought, their classmates had walked on eggshells around them not willing to be the one who set them off again. 

Marinette forced herself to rise and face her best friend, uncertain where they now stood. Yes, she had saved Alya’s life. Numerous times, in fact. But she had also lied and kept a huge secret from her best friend. She had allowed Alya to prattle on about Ladybug for hours at a time and had never said anything. The myriad of emotions flickering across the redhead’s face reflected this. There was hurt, anger, disbelief, confusion. For a long moment, neither one of them spoke. They simply didn’t know where to begin. The silence was unbearable, and Marinette was just about to break it with a stream of babbled apologies when her best friend finally spoke.

“Hey,” Alya said softly. Uncertainly.

“Hey,” Marinette whispered back, equally as uncertain. They lapsed into silence once more, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“So… it’s been you this whole time?” Alya finally asked, her brow furrowing. Marinette gave a tiny nod, almost imperceptible, but Alya saw nonetheless. “And you couldn’t tell me… to protect your friends and family?”

“Y-yeah.” the darker haired girl agreed, twisting her fingers together nervously. Alya nodded, seeming deep in thought for a long moment. Finally, she took a deep breath in and let it out in a loud gust of air.

“Well, I guess that makes sense. I suppose I should be thanking you for saving my life,” she said. A radiant grin broke out on the redhead’s face and Marinette relaxed, immediately knowing she had been forgiven. Alya opened her arms and then the two were hugging, oblivious to the others in the room. It was a long while before Alya extricated herself from the embrace to hold her best friend at arm's length and when she did, there was unmistakable excitement in her hazel gaze.

“Go ahead,” the ravenette said, amusement in her own gaze as she carefully clapped her hands over her ears. Even with the protection, she could easily hear the piercing squeal that escaped her friend. Tom and Sabine had also covered their ears, well used to their daughter’s best friend who had become like a second daughter to them… but Chat wasn’t expecting the sheer volume (even as Adrien he didn’t hang with Alya quite as much). He flinched as her pitch hit levels previously known to man or cat kind, leather ears flattening in protest as he covered his normal ears with his clawed hands. When she was quite finished, the other four tentatively took their hands away from their ears.

“Omigawd,  _ giiiirl! _ You’re  _ Ladybug _ . My literal idol! This is  _ literally _ the best day of my  _ life _ ,” Alya gushed, bouncing up and down like a spring and clapping her hands together. Her tone was still louder than strictly necessary but thankfully not nearly as high in decibel. Marinette laughed, well accustomed to how her best friend got about all things Ladybug. “Oh gosh, you have to tell. Me.  _ Everything _ .”

“Well, that’s kind of why you’re here,” Marinette pointed out with a smile.

“Right, right,” the redheaded whirlwind nodded, before frowning uncertainly. “Are you sure you want  _ me _ to tell your story though? There are bigger news stations… and I’m not the most experienced reporter. It might be better to-”

“Alya,” Marinette cut her off with a smile. “Here’s no one I trust more to tell my story,” she assured firmly. Alya’s eyes softened behind her glasses and then they were hugging once again before Alya pulled back and got down to business.

“Right, then… you wanna do this in the living room, or up in your bedroom?” She asked expectantly. “And do you wanna… you know, suit up or…?”

“Let’s do it down here in the living room and… I think it's best if I did this as Marinette, not Ladybug,” she said, after taking a deep fortifying breath. Alya nodded her understanding and gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

“I’m proud of you, girl. Now,  _ you _ ,” she turned to Chat Noir with a mischievous grin. “Now that my girl has come out to the world, does this mean  _ you’re _ gonna tell us who you are?”

“Alya!” Marinette protested, giving her best friend a disapproving glare that was promptly ignored. Chat, of course, didn’t seem at all offended and swallowed the pancake he had been trying to subtly devour before offering the pair a lazy grin.

“Fraid not, lil’ Lady. This Cat is staying firmly in the bag,” he said with a wink and a mock salute.

“Damn… Well, if you ever decide to come out of the closet, I will happily break your story free of charge,” she said, turning away as the boy squawked in protest.

“Don’t say that like I’m coming out as  _ Gay _ !!!”

  
  
  


All joking and jesting aside, when it was time to get started, Alya was all business. She stepped into the role of Boss seamlessly, ordering Chat Noir to stay downstairs and help Nino set up the sound and video equipment while she dragged Marinette upstairs to change. After all, she could hardly tell her story in baggy sweats and an oversized hoodie. Her normal attire of pink capris, a flower print short, and a jacket wouldn’t work as well. Alya, being the mom friend who always seemed to know what to do, went immediately to the wardrobe where Marinette kept most of the dresses she designed. She designed and made pretty much all of her clothes, but while her everyday clothing was kept in her closet, she had a special wardrobe for dresses and outfits better suited to special occasions. Most of them, she had never actually worn because she was a high school senior and didn’t really have a lot of special occasions to go to. There were some dresses in there that had been sitting untouched for the last four or five years, though she hadn’t changed much in size in that time.

Alya dug through the wardrobe before finally producing a red and black print skater dress that fell to her knees, holding it up in silent question. It made sense, to wear the colors of her alter ego, so Marinette silently nodded and went to fetch a pair of black tights and dress shoes to go with it. Once she was dressed, Alya shoved her down into a chair and she sat as her friend began to run a brush through her midnight blue hair. In the last few years, Marinette had allowed it to grow out some and rarely wore pigtails in her day to day life anymore. She kept the pigtails as Ladybug, something she had discovered Tikki capable of doing during the transformation process because it was easier than having to explain why Marinette changed her hairstyle the same time that Ladybug did.

She expected Alya to pull her hair into those iconic pigtails now to further give her the appearance of Ladybug, but instead, her friend went with a more sophisticated look. In the end, her hair was piled atop her head in a bun, while a few tendrils trailed down to frame her heart-shaped face. Makeup was kept to a minimum, a bit of smokey eyeshadow, some mascara, a bit of blush, and some red lipstick that perfectly matched the red of her dress. Standing in front of the full-length mirror when she was finished, she let out a low whistle of admiration and surprise. Alya really had outdone herself, turning a scared teenage girl into a sophisticated young woman in a matter of minutes. Tikki zipped up to hover over her holder’s shoulder, and her blue eyes shone with pride.

“You look so beautiful, Marinette,” she squeaked, startling Alya who had been busily cleaning up the line of hair products on the desk. Of course, Alya had seen a Kwami before. After all, Ladybug had let her borrow Trixx several times since that first time during the Saptois incident. But the Ladybug Kwami looked so different from the mischievous Fox Kwami she had come to know and love. 

“She’s so adorable,” the redhead mused, smiling as she studied the little red and black creature. She could easily see why Marinette had been matched with the Ladybug Kwami. They were well suited, both in personality and in looks. The Ladybug Kwami had big, doe-like blue eyes and was small and innocent looking, much like Marinette.

“Alya, this is Tikki. Tikki, Alya,” Marinette introduced, smiling.

“Hello, Alya! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Tikki greeted formally, zipping up to hover right in front of the other girl’s face. Alya grinned.

“You too, Tikki,” she responded.

“You know, Trixx thinks very highly of you. You and Deception are very well-suited,” the Kwami praised, and although the aspiring reporter would deny it later, there was a slightly red tinge to her cheeks under the little creature’s praise.

“I’m pretty fond of Trixx as well,” she admitted with an affectionate smile. Tikki returned the smile before turning to look at her Holder.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Marinette said, letting out a shaky breath.

“You know what you can and can’t say?” The Kwami prompted, earning another quick nod from the dark-haired girl.

“Mention nothing of Master Fu or  _ how _ I got my powers, reassure the people that I’m still here for them, and ask that they please respect my privacy in my Civilian life?” Marinette doubled checked. Tikki nodded.

“You’ve got it.”

“Okay… wish me luck, Tikki.”

“You don’t need luck, Marinette. You’re Ladybug! You’re the literal embodiment of good fortune,” the bug-like creature teased. Marinette shot her a droll look and rolled her eyes, but there was a grin teasing the corners of her lips.

“I’m actually pretty sure  _ you’re _ the literal embodiment of good fortune but I appreciate the sentiment,” she scoffed, before turning to her friend with a touch more nervousness. “Alright, Alya… let’s get this over with.”

“Try not to sound too excited,” Alya responded with a grin, spinning her around and propelling her towards the stairs. Marinette allowed herself to be ushered out of the room, silently steeling herself for the shit show that was about to go down.

  
  
  


“Hellooooo, Ladybloggers! Alya Cesaire here, teller of all things Ladybug, and have I got a treat for you!” Alya sat on the couch in the Dupain-Cheng’s living room facing the camera, and at this moment she was totally in her element. She exuded confidence, something Marinette was severely lacking as she stood off to the side and waited to be called into the frame. Her parents had left the room to give them space, having heard the full version already, and Chat Noir had remained for moral support. He slung an arm over her shoulders now, and she leaned into him, drawing comfort from his embrace.

“Now, many of you have probably already seen the footage of yesterday’s Akuma Attack, even though I did not post anything, personally. This was due to personal reasons but, I digress. The point is, yesterday some footage was released, supposedly revealing Ladybug’s true identity. The footage had not yet been confirmed to be real, but I am here with the girl behind the mask to confirm  _ yes _ the footage is accurate,” she continued. Alya went on talking, explaining a few basics of Marinette’s life and her personality before introducing her, and Chat Noir took a moment to lean down over her shoulder so that his mouth hovered next to her ear.

“I don’t think I got the chance to say this, but you look stunning in that dress, my Lady,” he murmured, and Marinette didn’t want to admit that a shiver raced up her spine when his breath brushed her ear. “I’d bet on all nine of my lives you made it yourself.”

Marinette turned her head slightly, her eyes still trained on the aspiring reporter as she spoke quietly. “You do realize you’re not  _ actually _ a cat, right Chat?” He gave a soft, mocking gasp in response.

“Blasphemy, bugaboo. How could you be so cruel?” He asked teasingly.

“You’re a dork, Chat,” she responded, finally tearing her eyes from Alya and turning them on the boy beside her. She froze, whatever she was going to say next dying in her throat as she realized just how close they were. They were nose to nose, less than an inch of space between them, and this close she could see tiny flecks of gold in his green eyes. Chat was looking down at her intently, his catlike green eyes boring into hers. Slowly, deliberately, his gaze flicked down to her lips and back up to her eyes. Marinette swallowed hard, hyper-aware of their proximity, and subconsciously the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Chat’s gaze followed the movement and something in his gaze changed, heated, sending a flutter of butterflies aloft in her stomach. 

The boy inched closer and his breath bathed her face, smelling like mint, oddly enough. She hadn’t seen him brush his teeth, but her parents were known for keeping spare toothbrushes so it wasn’t impossible. Marinette swallowed hard. She should move away; pull back and pretend this had never happened. Chat Noir was her partner, her best friend, and her most trusted confidante. But that as all he was. She had been brushing off his advances for years; had continued doing so even after finding out his feelings were genuine back during the Glaciator incident. She loved Chat, but it had always been a platonic sort of love. She was  _ in love _ with Adrien. Since the beginning, it had always been  _ Adrien _ . 

So why wasn’t she pulling back? If she didn’t know any better, she would say she wanted him to kiss her. But that was ridiculous… wasn’t it? Of course, it was… so why was she allowing him to move closer and closer, all the while staring at him like he held all the answers in the Universe? He was so close now; the slightest movement and his lips would be on hers. So why wasn’t he closing that last bit of difference? More importantly, why did she  _ care _ ? Adrien. She loved  _ Adrien _ . So why wasn’t she pushing Chat back? Why was there an unsettlingly large part of her that  _ wanted _ Chat to close that last bit of space between them and kiss her? Chat’s Veridian gaze searched hers waiting… waiting for what? Permission? Was he, even now when he was so close to claiming what he had always wanted, still waited for her to make that choice? Of course he was. That was simply the kind of person Chat was. He would never force himself on her. Everything that had happened in their partnership, every advancement in their friendship, was usually her decision.

Now, he was giving her the choice between pulling back and closing that last little bit of space between them. And if she were being honest with herself, here in her head where no one else knew what she was thinking, she wanted to close the distance and kiss him. Yes, Marinette was still in love with Adrien. That hasn't changed, nor would it in the foreseeable future as far as she was concerned. But she also couldn’t deny that there was a part of her drawn to Chat Noir. Adrien was safe. He was sweet, sensitive, and kind. She knew him in ways she would probably never know Chat Noir… at least until she allowed him to reveal his identity and got to know the boy beneath the mask. Chat, on the other hand, was unpredictable. He was an unknown. He was volatile, protective, and daring. He was exciting. The two were total opposites; the Good Boy and the Bad Boy. And they both made her heart race, her palms sweat, and her face burn.

So yes, Marinette found that she did want to kiss her partner and that scared her. Because when she had kept him at bay, things were light and easy. Nothing had to be taken seriously. If she gave him this, gave it a chance, things would get serious and one (or both) of them could get hurt. That scared her. Then again, a lot of things scared her and right now, she really wanted to control one thing. Make one decision for herself. So, she tipped her chin up to close that last bit of distance between them and-

“-introduce my best friend, and the girl behind the spotted mask we all know and love, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Alya’s voice jarred the two from their private little bubble and they sprang apart, faces flaming as two sets of eyes swiveled towards them. Marinette’s face burned as she met her best friend’s intrigued stare, shooting one last look at the boy over her shoulder before forcing her feet to carry to the couch. It was time to do away with the secrets and finally introduce the world to the girl behind the Ladybug mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interview you've all been waiting for and more MariChat feels. Also, Alya is ALL of us shameless shippers combines. Let's be honest...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN FACT; This is something my younger brother pointed out to me recently. It's so normal for me that I don't even think about it but it's not normal for others. I don't type normally, guys. I peck. Not only do I peck, I type using TWO fingers. I use my pointer fingers to type and the only variation is when I need to use the shift or space bar. Otherwise, everything I have written to date has been with two fingers. I write about forty wpm when I'm testing, but that is because I am super slow when trying to read and type at the same time. In all honesty (I'm not bullshitting you or exaggerating) when I really get going and my muse is super high and the words are just flowing out of me, I would say I probably type between 60-80 wpm, depending on how fast my thought process is going. With TWO fingers. That's insane lol
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, haha... This story has taken over my life. I tried to write for my other stories but it was CALLING to me so here. In lieu of updating another story, have yet ANOTHER chapter of this fic you all apparently love haha
> 
>  
> 
> Why though? I'm not nearly as good a writer as Y'all seem to think I am!?!?!

Marinette swallowed hard as she stepped in front of the camera and sat on the couch beside Alya, angling her body so that she was facing both the camera and the reporter, as her friend had suggested beforehand. On a little table to the left of the camera near Alya, a laptop was set up and open to the Ladyblog. Their interview was streaming live so that people who wanted to could post any questions they had for their resident heroine. Alya had assured Marinette that she could decline to answer any questions that she wasn’t comfortable with, which gave her a small shred of relief, but not much.

“Why don’t we start off with an introduction. Can you tell us your name and age, please?” Alya asked. Of course, she knew the answer to these questions but she was asking for the benefit of those who didn’t know Marinette.

“Um… My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’m seventeen years old,” she had to pause halfway through to clear her throat when her voice broke and Alya shot her a reassuring smile.

“You sound a little nervous,” she said sympathetically, and though her question was mostly for show, there was real concern in her hazel eyes. Marinette responded with a weak smile in return and nodded.

“Maybe a little… it’s a lot different being in front of a camera as just me, instead of as Ladybug,” she admitted.

“I can see why that might be a little difficult. But we’ll get back to that later. The people watching aren’t here to hear about Ladybug. We’re here to learn about you; Marinette. The girl behind the iconic red mask.” She said, shooting a wink at the camera.

“Well, what do you want to know?” Marinette asked, gaining a bit of confidence. Part of the reason Marinette had wanted to tell her story to Alya and Alya alone, was because of the other girl’s uncanny ability to put the ravenette at ease. She knew just what to say, how to act, to bring a laugh bubbling out of the shorter girl.

“Tell us, Miss Dupain-Cheng, when you’re not saving the world from evil, what is it that takes up most of your day?” Alya fired off the first real question of the interview, and so it began. Marinette explained her day to day life as best she could, leaving out any majorly personal information such as the names of her closest friends or that she had a crush. When prompted, she described her favorite hobbies and pastimes. Naturally, Fashion Design came up and as Marinette gushed about her dream career in Fashion, she realized what her friend was doing. She was making it so that her viewers didn’t just see a superhero, but a girl with a life that she lived outside of her heroic duties. She was forcing them to see her as a real person; as a teenage girl with likes and dislikes and hobbies. A girl who disliked math and hated physics with a passion, but who worked hard at both subjects regardless to maintain a near flawless grade point average.

The number of viewers climbed rapidly; it had started pretty high, at around 45,000, but quickly inched past 80,000 and into the 100,000s and on as they continued the interview. Marinette didn’t think it would be possible, but even she began to relax and have fun as she answered the questions fired at her. Alya asked the basics about Marinette’s life, how she had felt when she first became Ladybug (she had been quite surprised to learn Marinette had almost given up her powers, to Alya no less, in the very beginning), and how she had come to accept her role as one of Paris’ famous superheroes. Marinette, of course, admitted that a lot of her confidence came from the support and faith of her partner, which naturally led into a line of questioning about their dynamic. Of course, Alya had to ask if Marinette knew her partner’s secret identity, but when Marinette shook her head and pointed out that it was safer for the both of them if they stayed anonymous, even to one another, she nodded her understanding and moved on without much fuss.

For the most part, the questions were pretty mundane. Alya asked simple, everyday things such as her favorite type of food (Chinese), favorite animal (hamsters), did she want children in the future (she wanted two boys and a girl), and was she currently dating (unfortunately, no). She asked about her favorite subject in school (art, naturally) and where she was hoping to go to college (it was a toss-up between ESMOD and Central Saint Martins). They had shared a chuckle when Alya had asked the one place Marinette had never been but always wanted to visit (New York) and admitted that when they eventually sorted out this business with Hawk Moth, she was going to treat herself to a week-long vacation and just be a stereotypical tourist in New York. She asked questions like ‘what are three things you couldn’t live without’, to which Marinette responded her phone, her sketchbook, and her parents (though she assured her best friend was a close runner-up with a wink). When they had run out of basic life questions, Alya finally turned back to address the camera.

“Alright, Ladybloggers. We have about fifteen minutes left, so as promised I’m going to open the floor to you guys. If you have a question, send it in and Marinette will answer as many as she can before our time is up. Keeping in mind, of course, that she has every right to decline to answer a question that is considered sensitive or just too personal,” Alya informed her viewers after about forty-five minutes of questioning her best friend on her secret double life. The response was instantaneous as messages began flashing up on the computer screen beneath the video feed. Alya began scrolling through the questions, while Marinette took a moment to shoot a glance at Chat Noir. The leather-clad hero was standing behind Nino and slightly to his right, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed.

Thus far, he had listened to the interview with rapt attention, ears perked and eyes alight with interest. After all, it wasn’t every day he got to hear first hand how the inner workings of his Lady’s mind worked. Of course, if the intense look he was giving her was any indication, it also could have had something to do with their almost kiss that she definitely was not thinking about. Marinette had to will the blush away as her cheeks threatened to burn under his piercing gaze. Perhaps sensing her discomfort, the intensity faded away into a softer, more affectionate look as the hero waggled his fingers at his partner and mouthed _‘you okay?’_ Smiling, she gave an almost imperceptible nod before Alya’s voice dragged her attention back to the interview still going on.

“Alright! First up, we have a question from **SpottedbugznBlackCatz** . **SpottedbugznBlackCatz** asks, ‘did you get your powers when you were bitten by a radioactive ladybug?’ What say you, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Alya shot a look at her best friend, barely suppressing her laughter at the question. Marinette’s brow furrowed and her mouth dropped open in disbelief while, off camera, Chat Noir was cracking up to the point of being on the verge of falling over.

“Well, I am very sorry to disappoint, but my life isn’t some bad Spiderman knock-off. So to answer your question, no. I wasn’t bitten by any radioactive, _or genetically altered_ bugs,” Marinette said, lips twitching as she tried to hide her amusement. Alya was quick to fire off the next question.

“ **Red_BugSpots** wants to know how _did_ you get your powers, if not from a bug bite?” She continued, slightly more composed.

“Unfortunately, all I can tell you is what you already know. My powers are linked to my Miraculous; my Earrings. I can’t disclose _how_ they work, namely because I don’t fully understand it myself. Nor can I tell you how I came into possession of them, as that would endanger someone I care about very much,” she explained. Alya was nodding as she finished; they had already agreed to say nothing of the Kwami.

“ **Lady_RedHearts** wants to know where you learned to fight. Care to enlighten us, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” The Blogger fired off the next question rapidly, her own intrigue flashing in her eyes.

“To be honest, a lot of it is instinctual. The Miraculous is millennia old, and there have been countless Ladybugs before I came into play. The instincts and abilities honed from what is essentially my past lives… they do transfer over to me to some extent,” Marinette explained, her expression turning thoughtful. “The best way I can explain it is that in the heat of the moment, it’s like the world slows down and I just automatically know how to move to avoid whatever is coming at me. That being said, not all of it comes from my ancestors.”

“How do you mean?” Alya questioned immediately.

“Well, I took both Gymnastics and Ballet for years when I was a kid, and I use a lot of what I learned in both of those activities when I’m moving as Ladybug. I wouldn’t be nearly as graceful or flexible as LB if I didn’t have that past experience to draw from, although the superhuman strength does help quite a bit,” she finished, barely done speaking before Alya snorted, having just read the next question.

“ **Noir_Cats** would like to know if that means you’re really graceful in your civilian life as well,” she said, her eyes alight with amusement. Even Nino looked on the verge of laughter and Marinette shot the both of them a dirty look before grudgingly answering.

“Unfortunately, my gracefulness does _not_ transfer over to my Civilian life. I fear it somehow gets lost in translation between Ladybug and Marinette. Some might even say that I’m a walking disaster. I literally trip over air on a daily basis,” she admitted with a shrug and a rueful grin.

“ **Anti_Canon** would like to know what the hardest part of being a superhero is?”

“I would say the hardest part is the expectations people hold for you. I’ll be the first to admit I’m an anxious person. I suffer from panic attacks more often than I’d like to admit. I’m always so afraid that I’ll screw up; that I won’t be fast enough, strong enough, _good_ enough to protect this city and the people in it. Knowing people are counting on me, it can be really terrifying,” the ravenette admitted, reaching up to tug nervously at one of the stray curls framing her face.

“And how do you get over those fears, if you don’t mind my asking, in the heat of the moment? How do you keep your fears from preventing you from doing your duty?” Alya interjected, looking honestly curious. After all, she had bore witness to several of Marinette’s panic attacks and they could be pretty crippling.

“Honestly? I couldn't do it without my partner, Chat Noir. Since the beginning, Chat has been there supporting me, encouraging me, and believing in me. I couldn’t do half of what I do if he wasn’t there backing me up,” she explained, shooting a fond smile at the boy in question. His eyes were wide, his cheeks tinged red at her words, but he returned her smile without hesitation.

“Speaking of Chat Noir,” Alya seized on the topic, always an opportunist, “ **Coccinelle_Chat** would like to know a bit more about your partnership. They have a few different questions for you.”

“Shoot,” Marinette said, shooting what she hoped was a confident grin at the camera. Alya needed no more prompting and immediately began this new line of questioning.

“Who is the official leader between the two of you?”

“Chat and I are partners; equals. While some might believe I pull the reins in this partnership, the truth is we both do our part and we work together to get things done,” she said firmly.

“Okay, let’s try it this way. If I asked Chat Noir, who would _he_ say was the leader of Paris’ dynamic duo?” She asked instead. Marinette grimaced, shooting a glance at her partner who looked vastly amused by her discomfort now.

“He would say I’m the leader,” she finally admitted with a grimace. It was true. Chat was constantly deferring to her, and while that was just sort of how their dynamic had come to be over the years, all joking aside, she had never seen herself as the boss of Chat. Unfortunately, he didn’t always see it like that and if anyone asked, he was happy to point to her as the leader of their team. It was a bit aggravating at times.

“Chat seemed to already know the secret of a happy marriage; he’ll make some lucky lady mighty lucky one day,” Alya said with a sly grin. Marinette smiled awkwardly, her traitorous mind immediately flickering back to the near-kiss less than an hour earlier.

“Chat’s always been a smart guy,” she hedged cautiously.

“ **SuperBug** wants to know what you think of your partner,” Alya pressed, a glint entering her eye that didn’t sit well with the ravenette. After all, Alya wasn’t stupid. She had seen that near kiss with her own eyes and was very much intrigued, given the fact that as far as she was concerned, Marinette was still in love with Adrien.

“Oh, um… erm… haha…” Marinette giggled nervously at this new direction the line of questioning had taken. A few days ago, she would have immediately said Chat was her best friend and that she trusted him to have her back no matter what, but that was all they were. Now? She wasn’t sure what the truth was. “Well, Chat Noir is my partner. He’s my best friend and I would trust him implicitly to save my life if it came down to it,” she finally settled on. She should have known Alya wouldn’t give up that easily. Alya Cesaire, owner, and creator of the Ladyblog was nothing if not tenacious.

“Is that all he is? Some might believe the feelings between you two run deeper than you’re letting on,” she pressed, while beside her the petite girl squirmed and fiddled with the hem of her dress.

“I, um, well…”

“Can you confirm the existence of the LadyNoir ship?”

“No! I mean, that is to say… it’s not…”

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Alya asked, a twinkle in her eye. Marinette was pretty sure her face was as red as a tomato by this point and she had to draw on Ladybug’s strength just to formulate a proper response.

“I um… I’m sorry, Alya. But that’s getting into personal territory that I’d rather not disclose. Regardless of whether Chat and I _are_ an item, and I am neither confirming nor denying this… that really isn’t anyone’s business but our own,” she finally said.

Alya looked about ready to protest before she apparently recalled her earlier testament and sighed. “You heard the lady, folks. The existence of Ladynoir will neither be confirmed nor denied at this point in time and, on that note, that’s all the time we have for today. I want to end this very special blog by asking my viewers to please respect Miss Dupain-Cheng’s privacy. She has already declined to speak to any other news station, so, for the time being, I will remain your number one source on all things Ladybug,” the reporter said with a wink before continuing.

“Part of the reason Secret Identities exist is to allow our superheroes a bit of normality in their everyday life,” the redhead continued, flashing a stern look at the camera. “Don’t be that asshole who continuously bugs her with all your Ladybug and Chat Noir questions. Save that for when she’s actually suited up. Until next time, Bloggers. This is Alya Cesaire, signing off!”

  
  


Marinette was more than a little relieved to be done with the interview, and once all the equipment was packed up she retired to her bedroom with Chat, Alya, and Nino while her parents started in on lunch. One good thing had come of the interview, though. Most of the crowd outside had dispersed as soon as word reached them that they were broadcasting the blog live, in favor of watching on a screen bigger than that of their cell phones. Now, the four were sprawled around her room munching on cookies. Nino was sitting in her desk chair, while Alya sat at his feet and allowed him to massage the tension from her shoulders. Meanwhile, Marinette and Chat were on her Chaise, Marinette sitting up while Chat was stretched across the seat in a very catlike manner, his head in her lap as she methodically ran her fingers through his hair. She found it somewhat therapeutic, like petting a real cat.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Alya asked after the four had sat in silence for a while, each ruminating in their own thoughts. Marinette flashed her an unamused look.

“I could have personally done without all the Ladynoir questions,” she said, arching a brow. Alya simply grinned and shrugged, unrepentant.

“The people want to know what the people want to know,” she said, a mischievous twinkle entering her hazel eyes. “I have to say, I might have a new OTP though.”

“Oh?” Marinette asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. Alya’s smile grew into a full-blown grin until she looked very much like the cat who had eaten the canary.

“Yes, I have to say, I rather like the sound of MariChat. Ladynoir can be fluff or angst, depending on how you spin it, and if frankly more of a BrOTP than anything else… but MariChat could be downright _sinful_ if you think about it,” Alya teased, waggling her eyebrows playfully. Marinette let out an inhuman squawk as her hands stilled in her partner’s hair, causing a sleepy grumble of protest from the boy in question.

“Alya!” She hissed in protest.

“What!? I’m just saying, Chat Noir is hot and all that black leather leaves very little to the imagination and frankly, it’s kinda kinky. Like a mix between a Dom and a Furry,” the redhead said with a casual shrug, while across from her, Marinette’s face was passing red and turning dangerously purple. Chat, in the meantime, opened his eyes to glare at the redhead in offense.

“See, I kind of liked where you were going with _Dom_ ,” he began, chuckling when Marinette squeaked again and tried unsuccessfully to shove him off her lap, “but you lost me at furry.”

“Oh come on, Chat! You’re in a _leather_ catsuit,” Alya protested.

“She has a point, my dude,” Nino offered up, nodding wisely. Chat glared at him, mildly offended that his best friend was betraying him. Then again, Nino didn’t know it was Adrien under all that black leather.

“Yeah, but… I’m not a furry!” He yelped. Alya just chuckled in amusement, while Marinette wheezed unintelligibly. Mentions of furries and kinks aside, the rest of the afternoon passed rather quietly. At some point, Alya and Nino started playing Mario Kart, occasionally passing the controllers off to Marinette or Chat, but for the most part, the girl and her partner remained as they were on the chaise, basking in the presence of the other. As evening began to fall, Nino eventually left to head home, while Alya decided to spend the night as moral support to her friend. She still didn’t know Chat had spent the previous night in this very room, in the very bed she and Alya had shared countless times, and Marinette wanted to keep it that way.

Chat Noir eventually had to go home, citing that he really needed to rest his Kwami and that his father was probably freaking out by now. He quietly offered to return later that night, but Marinette declined. She had Alya, after all, and she didn’t want him straining Plagg. She did, however, take the cell number he gave her after he insisted it was for a second phone, not his main phone, and was only used in emergency situations. He made her promise to call or text him if anything happened and assured her he would be there in a heartbeat. When he turned to leave, Marinette followed him up to the balcony, hyper-aware that Alya was undoubtedly eavesdropping. She wanted to bring up the almost kiss, but in the end, she was too scared.

“Goodnight,” she murmured instead, eyes sparkling with disappointment. She felt like a horrible friend but a part of her kind of wished Alya had gone home so that she had a reason to have Chat come back later that night.

“Goodnight, My Lady,” he returned with a soft smile that he had always reserved for her and her alone. For once, it sent a mess of butterflies alight in her belly. “Call me if you need anything; even if you just want to talk.”

“I will,” she whispered.

“Promise me,” he responded, stepping closer until they were toe to toe. His gaze was intense as it bore into her own, and her skin burned beneath his attention.

“I promise,” she squeaked, wincing as her voice cracked. She swallowed, her throat suddenly bone dry.

Chat lifted a hand, and despite the claws tipping his gloved fingers, his touch was as gentle as a feather as he swept aside a lock of hair that had escaped her bun and fallen into her eyes. He leaned closer and Marinette’s heart fluttered in equal parts protest and anticipation. At the last minute, Chat’s eyes flicked over her shoulder and locked on something behind her, and instead of her lips, his landed against her forehead. She closed her eyes, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He was gone before she opened her eyes, a light breeze from his departure and a light tingle where his lips had touched her skin the only proof he had that he had ever been there in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, lemme know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plagg is a little shit, but he's a justified little shit. Adrien, be more considerate of your Kwami! Also, Marinette and Alya talk boys ;) feelings are revealed, and shit gets super sweet and sappy for a moment there
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to MarianaMystery, one of my newest readers. Your heartfelt comment on the last chapter helped get me through a really rough, anxiety-riddled day at work, so I thank you for that! This one is for you ;) hope it answers all of your questions and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be out a few hours ago, but I got distracted... so here's another fun fact about me! I don't pay rent at the moment. I live with family and only help out with groceries from time to time. So the main reason I work (aside from wanting spending money) is because I enjoy going on vacation. I work... so I can pay for my vacations lmao. So I have two vacations coming up. One is my usual trip. I take a week off every few months to visit family in Arizona (not really a vacation; it's a necessary destresser trip to help with my anxiety, otherwise I overwork myself and get too stressed out and my anxiety gets ten times worse). This time my sister and nephew are joining me, as usually, I take this trip alone to visit my stepmom's family. So that's October's trip... then in December, I am taking a completely self-indulgent trip to California xD this is a kind of family vacation thing, as my mom, both of my brothers, one of my sisters, and my nephew are coming with and we're going to see Hollywood and Venice Beach, and then going to Seaworld and Six Flags (skipping Disneyland as I used to go every summer as a kid with my dad). 
> 
> So... yeah I was mapping out the price for the California trip so that I could give everyone an estimated cost of what they can expect to pay. My sister and I are footing most of the bill but having my mom and older brother pay for some of the expenses lol

Adrien’s transformation released the moment his feet touched down on his carpeted bedroom floor, shooting a very annoyed Plagg from the now silver ring on his finger. The little black, catlike creature was positively quivering with righteous fury as he turned an acid green glare on his holder. The boy at least had the tact to look guilty, having kept his Kwami in the ring far longer than he should have.

“You owe me  _ so much _ for making me stay in the ring for so long!” The tiny God of Destruction snarled, his tail lashing in a way that was reminiscent of a real cat. 

“Marinette needed me, Plagg,” Adrien tried to defend, but Plagg wasn’t having any of his shit. Zipping up close to his holder so that the boy had to practically cross eyes to keep him in his line of vision, the little creature smacked him sharply on the nose. It didn’t necessarily hurt but still.

“Marinette needed you  _ last night _ and maybe during the interview for moral support but she didn’t need you all afternoon. You just wanted her to pet you!” He accused, baring his tiny fangs. Adrien glared back. Unable to dispute his Kwami’s claims, he opted for going on the defensive instead.

“You’re just jealous she wasn’t petting  _ you _ instead,” he retorted, earning a droll look from the tiny God.

“I am the God of Destruction. I don’t need petting!” He shot back contemptously. Adrien stuck his tongue out at his tiny companion, earning an annoyed huff, before turning to the door with a sigh. Sooner or later, he would need to face the consequences of staying away so long. Really, he was surprised that his father hadn’t called in the Army or the National Guard by now.

“Look, I’ll give you extra Camembert for your troubles, Plagg,” he called over his shoulder as he crossed the massive bedroom to the door on the far wall.

“Camembert!? Ooooh no, you owe me  _ way _ more than Camembert! I want no less than five pounds of Pule. The real stuff; not that garbage knock-off stuff!” Plagg spat in response. Adrien shot an incredulous look over his shoulder at the little God, pausing with his hand on the door knob of his bedroom door.

“Pule? Plagg! That’s like the most expensive cheese in the whole world!” He retorted, somehow finding himself both shocked and not shocked at his Kwami’s request. The catlike creature put his nose in the air and shot him a haughty look.

“Not like you can’t afford it, Model boy,” he scoffed with a flick of his tail. Adrien glared at him; Plagg knew how much he hated being referred to as Model Boy. It was demeaning.

“Plagg, rude,” he admonished. “My father might be rich, but even he might notice if I buy five pounds of cheese at six hundred dollars a pound! We’ll talk about this later. Maybe I can swing  _ a _ pound.”

Behind him, the Kwami grumbled loudly and floated over to bury himself in the little trash bin beside his Holder’s desk. Why he always wanted to sleep in there when he had a perfectly nice little doll house on the second floor of the bedroom, Adrien would never understand. Far be it for him to tell a God where he could and couldn’t sleep, though. Especially the Black Cat God of Destruction. Shaking his head in exasperation, Adrien twisted the knob and pulled open his bedroom door. Immediately, something fluttered to the ground at his feet and he stooped to pick it up while straining to hear anything that might indicate his father was freaking out. The massive Mansion was usually quiet, but today it was eerily so, and for the time being Adrien turned to the piece of parchment in his hands. It was a missive, his name written in a neat, cursive script across the front of the envelope. Carefully breaking the seal on the back (one he immediately recognized as his father’s) he pulled out the ivory colored paper and read the brief message written on the front.

 

_ Adrien, _

_ Something has come up at the Milan branch that requires your father’s immediate attention. Due to this your father and I had to catch a Redeye Flight out without warning you beforehand. For the time being, your photoshoots and lessons have been canceled. Your father wishes you to stay home from school as well, but if you must attend, neither Monsieur Guerilla nor I will tell your father; we both know how much school means to you. That being said, if you do decide to attend school, you are to call Monsieur Guerilla and have him pick you up. Do  _ NOT _ walk to school, Adrien. I know you wish for a little more freedom but you are still a famous Model and your father is a very rich man. There are plenty of people who would happily seize upon the opportunity to ransom you back to your father. All the usual house rules apply. Curfew is seven pm, no friends over without your father’s permission. The number for the chef, if you do not wish to eat the meals already prepared in the freezer, is on the fridge and he is well aware he is on call. Your father and I will be gone for two weeks; three at most. Take care, stay out of trouble, and do try to be good. _

_ Nathalie Sancoeur. _

 

In something of a daze, Adrien returned to the room and closed his bedroom door by leaning back against it. Plagg poked his head out of the trash can and eyed him curiously, finally rising in the air and floating over to his charge when the boy made no move to walk further into the room. Frowning, Plagg zipped around him, ensuring he wasn’t bodily injured, then snatched the note card from the boy’s hand to read it himself. He hummed thoughtfully as he finished. Well, that explained the lack of shouting. Adrien’s father could be quite loud when he was angry, and knowing Adrien hadn’t been home in over a day would surely have made him blow a gasket. Tossing the note onto the desk, he tapped his charge’s nose impatiently to bring him back to the here and now.

“Earth to Adrien. We have the whole house to ourselves! You should be celebrating… and buying me my cheese,” he pointed out in that nasally voice of his. Adrien blinked, and slowly a broad grin spread across his face.

“I have the whole house to myself…” He breathed, looking at Plagg in awe, “Possibly for the next three weeks!”

“Yeah, that’s what I just  _ said _ ,” Plagg pointed out with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Adrien was too excited to be offended though. In fact, he was barely listening to his sarcastic Kwami.

“I could spent the whole three weeks with Marinette!” He said, bouncing excitedly.

“Wait-” Plagg started, but was almost immediately cut off by the ecstatic teenager.

“I could use the next three weeks wooing her; make her fall for both Chat  _ and _ Adrien and then she’ll  _ have _ to let me tell her the truth,” he explained to… well, mostly himself. He had quite forgotten the irritated God floating after him as he finally pushed away from the door and paced further into the room.

“That’s a terrible idea…” Plagg tried, well aware it was like speaking to air at this point. The boy was way too far gone to listen to him at this point.

“It’s perfect! She’ll fall in love with both halves of me, and we’ll start dating. Then, when we graduate, we’ll get married. Have two kids-no, three…”

“I hate kids,” Plagg grumbled, ears flattening in annoyance as his charge continued to babble on. Why did he always get the nutballs, anyway? Surely Tikki didn’t have to deal with all this with her Ladybug. She was always so levelheaded when they were fighting Akuma… of course he would get the delusional showpony.

“Plagg! Plagg, this is perfect. I have to go tell Marinette the good news!” Adrien said excitedly, spinning to face him. The tiny God widened his eyes in disbelief.

“Adrien, don’t you dare! You owe me cheese!” He spat. The boy wasn’t listening though and started to strike his stupid, ridiculously over-the-top transformation pose.

“Plagg, Claws O-ooooow!” The boy yelped, jerking back as needle-like fangs sank into the tip of his nose. Blinking in disbelief, he stared as the Kwami spat and swiped his paw over his mouth in disgust.

“First of all, didn’t your girlfriend tell you not to come by tonight? Second of all,  _ FEED ME BEFORE YOU TRY TO TRANSFORM OR I’LL TURN YOU INTO A CAT!!!” _

Adrien had probably never moved faster in his life in his quest to get the furious God his cheese.

  
  


“So. Chat Noir, huh?” 

Marinette had known it was coming, but she still groaned and rolled over in protest as Alya finally raised the question that had been plaguing her mind since the near kiss earlier that afternoon. It was getting late, sometime after ten at night, and the girls were in Marinette’s bed, clad in their pajamas, waiting for sleep to claim them. Alya was undeterred by being presented with her friend’s back and simply propped herself up on an elbow to look down at the smaller girl expectantly. It didn’t take long; the question had been bother Marinette even more than it had been bothering Alya and if she didn’t talk about it with  _ someone _ she was liable to implode. So after about forty-five seconds, the ravenette flopped back onto her back with a long, drawn out groan that had the redhead smirking in triumph.

“I don’t know, Alya! I don’t know what that was!” She wailed, covering her face with both hands. Alya hummed  sympathetically and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Well… let’s try this, then. What about Adrien? Do you still like him?” She asked. It took a solid minute, but finally the fingers on one hand splayed so that she could peek up at her friend.

“Of course I do, Alya! I love Adrien. I’ve loved Adrien since the day after we met. It’s  _ always _ been Adrien,” she groaned, snapping her fingers shut to once again hide her eyes from view. Despite no longer being in her friend’s field of vision, the redhead nodded in understanding.

“And what do you like about him?” She prompted, and this time the fingers on both hand splayed so the dark-haired girl could glare at her friend.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation like a hundred gazillion times. How is this helping  _ anything?”  _ She asked grumpily. Alya was unaffected by her friend’s tone.

“Humor me, Marinette. I promise it will all make sense when we’re done. What do you like about Adrien?” She asked gently. It took another few minutes before Marinette finally dropped her hands fully from her face with a quiet moan of protest, and another few moments before she finally gave in (as Alya knew she would) and began to speak.

“He’s kind… Considerate… and humble. He’s rich, but he doesn’t flaunt it like  _ Chloe _ . He’s so generous, and sweet, and supportive… and he doesn’t hold a grudge,” she explained. As Marinette continued speaking, she started to pick up steam and the words began to flow freely. “He’s so smart too! I’ve seen his test scores in Physics, and it’s almost effortless for him. Me? It takes me  _ forever _ to work through Mendeliev’s problems,” she said, her button nose wrinkling adorably. Alya hummed softly.

“Anything else?” She prompted, and this time there was no hesitation before the other girl started speaking again. It was as if now that she had started, she couldn’t stop.

“He’s so kind. I know I said that already, but it’s true,” she said firmly, rolling onto her side to face her best friend. “Adrien… he doesn’t have the best home life. I know he tries to hide it, and he can fool most people, but we’re his best friends! I see how much he hates modeling; he only does it to make his father happy but nothing he does ever seems to achieve that goal and it  _ kills _ him… but he still goes through every day with a smile on his face. It isn’t fair,” she whined, tears pricking at the corners of her bluebell eyes.

“No. No, it isn’t,” Alya agreed gently, giving the other girl an affectionate smile that was tinged with sadness. After all, Marinette’s assessment on Adrien was spot on. The boy had issues, even if he liked to pretend everything in his like was all cupcakes and rainbows. “Now, why don’t you tell me about Chat Noir.”

“He’s annoying,” Marinette said immediately, because honestly it was the first thing that popped into her head. “He has the weirdest sense of humor ever, and I swear Alya, ninety percent of it includes  _ cat puns _ ,” the darker haired girl whined softly, flopping onto her back once more to stare up at the ceiling. It took a lot of willpower for Alya not to laugh outright at her friend’s immediate assessment. Instead, she hummed thoughtfully.

“What else?” She prompted, and Marinette wasted no time in launching into a detailed assessment of her leather-clad partner.

“He’s a total flirt. He flirts with me constantly as Ladybug,  _ and _ as Marinette, now that I think about it. And I’m not even talking about today… he was actually really, really sweet today… but no, I mean  _ before _ the big reveal, he would flirt with me as Marinette and call me Princess and stuff? It makes me wonder how many  _ other _ girls he’s flirting with,” she muttered the last part, her face scrunching up in obvious displeasure, and Alya immediately seized upon that.

“And does that bother you? The possibility of him flirting with other girls?” She asked, eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her best friend’s facial expression.

“No, of course not,” Marinette denied immediately, but her hardened facial expression faltered and then dropped completely into one of absolute misery. “ _ Yes _ ,” she finally admitted, “it  _ does _ bother me and I don’t know why!”

“So, tell me what you really think of Chat Noir, then,” Alya said simply. Marinette sighed and returned to covering her eyes with her hands. This time, however, she spoke without further prompting from her friend.

“He’s… charming. In a way. He flirts a lot, an a lot of it is super cheesy and over-the-top… but there are times when he’s being really genuine and honest about his feelings and I don’t know, it give me butterflies, you know?” She peeked between her fingers at Alya for confirmation, and Alya nodded obediently. The fingers closed once more before she continued.

“I guess some might say he’s funny. I mean, the cat puns are horrendous, don’t get me wrong, but he’s so goofy and upbeat, you just can’t help but laugh with him,” she explained. “He’s a total showpony; he likes to show-off, usually by flipping around and being way more dramatic than he needs to be, but it’s kind of cute and I get the feeling he has to hold a lot of himself back in his civilian life.”

“What else,” Alya asked, tugging at one of Marinette’s arms until she dropped her hands and rolled to face her friend. There was a faraway look in the girl’s bluebell eyes, and an affectionate smile curved her lips.

“Chat Noir is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He’s honest; he would never lie to me. He’s always so willing to help people, to put his own life on the line for other’s. Mine especially. He can be really overprotective sometimes, and it drives me  _ crazy _ because he’s gotten it into his head that he’s the shield and I’m the sword… but he doesn’t seem to realize that we’re partners; equals. And he doesn’t understand that it kills me,  _ kills _ me, whenever he gets hurt on my behalf. I’m always afraid that this time, I won’t be able to save him, or bring him back, and then he’ll just be gone. Forever. And I couldn’t go on, knowing I’m the reason my best friend died. I couldn’t go on in a world without Chat Noir,” she whispered, more tears pricking the corners of her eyes and making them sparkle like sapphires.

“And why is that?” Alya asked gently.

“Because I love him,” Marinette said simply, brow furrowing. “I love his big stupid grin, and I love how large his heart is, and I love how he treats me like I’m royalty even when I don’t deserve it… I love that even though he loves me, he’ll still call me out when I’m not acting professionally; when I let my personal feelings get in the way of being a hero… and I love how good and honest and… and… oh my god,” she broke off suddenly, eyes widening as the realization finally struck her fully.

“And  _ there _ it is,” Alya said with a pleased but understanding smile.

“I love Chat Noir,” Marinette whispered.

“Mhm,” Alya agreed.

“But I also love Adrien,” she added.

“True,” Alya agreed. Beside her, the ravenette looked on the verge of tears and with a motherly hum, Alya drew the smaller girl into a hug. It was a long while, many sniffles, a few muffled sobs, and several tears before Marinette could speak again.

“What am I going to do?” She whispered, her voice muffled due to her face being pressed into her friend’s collarbone. Alya held her tighter, knowing how miserable this conflict was going to make her friend… especially in the wake of everything else going on. But at the end of the day, she had needed to admit the truth to herself; she never would have done so without Alya’s prompting.

“You’re going to go to sleep, Mare. You’re going to take a few days off school until things die down a bit, and when you’re good and ready you’re going to figure out which one you love more. You don’t have to make a decision immediately. You’re young. But sooner or later, you will need to make a choice. They won’t wait forever, and you need to figure out which one you can stand to lose as a romantic interest, and which one you can’t,” she explained sagely. Marinette pulled back to look at her friend, looking tiny and lost in her oversized sleep shirt, her nose red and her eyes glistening with tears.

“How do I choose?”

“I can’t answer that, sweetheart, That’s something you’ll have to figure out all your own. But for now, sleep. You can think more on it in the morning,” she murmured. Marinette nodded. She was already exhausted, after all. Yawning sleepily, she allowed her eyes to drift shut, her body suddenly feeling heavy and lethargic. Eventually, exhaustion won out and she fell asleep. Alya drifted off not long after, and for the moment, they both put their worries aside and fell into a sweet, dreamless oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More MariChat for your souls ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister woke me up at five am when she was getting ready to take her baby to daycare and go to work. Normally, I roll over and go back to sleep. Especially since I was up until two am writing the LAST chapter. Instead, I stupidly stayed up to write this and now I'm going to be insanely tired during my 12-8 shift but I couldn't care less because this chapter holds my heart. I swear. That being said...
> 
> You guys read the tags, right??? I just... I wanna ask that you please keep in mind that while this fic has, thus far, been mostly fluff with a bit of angst thrown in, this fic is sanctioned to be at least seventy percent angst. Maybe sixty because I love fluff and sin... It might seem like everything is resolved and will continue to be pretty cute and fluffy for the next few chapters, but shit WILL hit the fan at some point and I need you to be prepared for that. Like, minor spoiler alerts, you're going to hate some pretty loveable characters for a bit and maybe even find yourself liking everyone's least favorite blonde. I know... hard to believe! But it's true lol

Marinette didn’t accompany Alya to school the next morning, or the day after that. In fact, she skipped school for the rest of the week. Chat Noir came by often, usually at night, and they would talk and watch movies and play video games long into the wee hours of the morning before falling asleep. Surprisingly, Adrien also came by often. While Chat Noir dominated her nights, her friend and original crush dominated her days. He had shown up the morning Alya had returned to school, awkwardly citing a photo shoot as his reason for being unable to come by sooner, and offered her a Hazelnut Mocha from her favorite cafe. Surprisingly, despite his well-known crush on Ladybug, Adrien didn’t bother her with any questions about her double life as she might have expected him to. He was very respectful, and after the awkwardness of the first few hours, they quickly fell back into their normal behavior around one another.

Alya, upon hearing Adrien was spending his days with her, had started bringing  _ both _ of their class and homework over after school each day, and Adrien was more than happy to help Marinette in the subjects she wasn't very good at. Namely, physics. It was nice, and as Alya had surreptitiously pointed out after the first day, this was her chance to really get to know both her partner and friend and try to puzzle out which one she could firmly lock into the ‘friend’ category, and which one she genuinely wanted to pursue. It wasn’t easy, though. For starters, she had no idea how to even begin figuring out which one she liked more. Mere days ago, she would have said without a doubt that Adrien was her choice. Adrien had always been her choice. But now that Alya had (so rudely)  _ forced  _ her to admit her feelings for the other blonde in her life… well, they were impossible to ignore.

Both Adrien and Chat were impossible to ignore, actually. And it wasn’t like when she was with one, she was thinking of the other. No.  _ Thankfully _ she had the presence of mind to focus on the blonde she was  _ actually _ with, which wasn’t hard when  _ both _ of them were flirting with her. Chat Noir, she had expected. When wasn’t he trying to be suave and charming? Granted, she perhaps found him a bit  _ more _ charming now that she had accepted her feelings than she might have before her chat with Alya. Heh… chat. Oh God, even her humor was starting to sound like his. Somebody kill her now!?! The point was, however, that Adrien had started to flirt with her too. And she couldn’t entirely blame his feelings on Ladybug either, because Adrien had been more touchy-feely with her for the last few months. That hadn’t changed. What  _ had _ changed was the charged feeling in the room whenever he did it, the way his touch no lingered longer than what might be considered just a friendly touch, the heated glances when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

So, now they were both courting her… and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Thankfully, thus far there had been no more near kisses. She wasn’t sure her heart could take that right now; especially if both Chat  _ and _ Adrien attempted to kiss her. She might literally combust. No, slightly-more-than-friendly touches and embraces aside, both boys were undeniably respectful of her space and immediately backed off if she started to look overwhelmed. That, at least, she was grateful for. Still, it begged the question of what she was going to do about it. She couldn’t date both of them; that wouldn’t be fair to either one of them. She supposed she could tell them the truth; that she was hung up on one of her best civilian friends and her superhero partner at the same time and had no  _ freaking _ clue what she was going to do about it… but something told her that she would have a very difficult time getting through that explanation. Like sure, she was just supposed to waltz up to the two supposed  _ loves of her life _ and go ‘hey Chat and Adrien… Chatdrien… Adrichat…’ Where was she going with this again? Her head hurt now. And she kept thinking about Chatdrien and Adrichat. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if she could just mesh the two supposed  _ loves of her life _ into one amazing boy? No… on second thought she would probably, literally, die if that were to happen.

The sound of her phone pinging interrupted her inner turmoil, thankfully before it could get any _ more _ out of hand than it already was, and the ravenette rolled over in bed to glare over the edge of the loft. She had finally turned her phone back on after the third day, having to sort through hundreds of well-meaning messages from her friends and classmates. A good portion had been from Alya, and thankfully she had just had to delete those after skimming through them. She had already gotten their first meeting after  _ The Big Reveal _ out of the way, thank  _ Tikki _ . Her other classmates were probably curious as hell, but their messages were respectful and were mostly asking if she was okay and informing her of what she had already suspected, that Chloe was the culprit behind the world knowing.

Alya had been only too pleased to inform her that Chloe had basically been ostracized, not only by their classmates but by the whole school. No one wanted to talk to Chloe; not even Sabrina, her ever faithful lackey. Marinette should have been pleased. Chloe had gotten what she deserved, selling out a long-term classmate out of spite. She should be pleased because Chloe had been bullying her, and the rest of Paris to be completely honest since they were kids. Instead, she got an icky sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach that refused to go away whenever she thought about it. Chloe had been a bitch, sure. But then, when  _ wasn’t _ Chloe a bitch? She wasn’t justifying the blonde’s actions, of course. What she had done was just plain mean. But maybe, just maybe, the blonde deserved a chance at redemption. And maybe, just maybe, Marinette had to be the one to act upon that course of action. 

She was Ladybug. Sure, now the world and all her friends knew that  _ Ladybug _ , the cool and confident superhero they all know and love, was also sweet, awkward, clumsy Marinette Dupain-Cheng… but she was still an icon, idol to thousands. People looked up to her, respected her, followed her influence. If she gave the blonde one last chance, then others would as well. As Ladybug, wasn’t it her duty to take that first step? The answer was a resounding yes. Sliding off her bed and down the loft stairs, she picked up her phone and settled into her desk chair as she unlocked it. She actually had two unread messages, not the one she was expecting. The first must have come earlier when she was too far deep in her inner monologuing to notice her phone pinging her text alarm. Unsurprisingly, the two texts were from Chat and Adrien. Chatdrien… Adrichat… shit, she had it bad. Shaking her head fiercely, she opened the older one, from Chat, first and read what he had texted her.

**Kitty >:3 ;** Hey, Buginette! Wanted to let you know I’d be headed over within the hour. Hope you didn’t miss me too much ;)

Marinette rolled her eyes at Chat’s text, but it was with a fond smile on her face. No wonder she couldn’t stop meshing Chat and Adrien’s names together. Since the second day after  _ The Big Reveal _ , Chat had taken to calling her Buginette and Maribug and she supposed she did like it better than  _ Bugaboo _ but now it was infecting her mind and making her just as sappy as he was. She quickly fired off a response.

**Bugaboo;** I don’t know, Chaton. It’s been pretty peaceful here without your constant punning…

She didn’t even get a chance to open Adrien’s text before another popped up under Chat’s phone moniker which, by the way, he had put into her phone himself. Including the ridiculous(ly adorable) little ‘cat’ face.

**Kitty >:3 ; ** _ Le Gasp!  _ I’m hurt, Maribug. Seriously, you’ve wounded me!

**Bugaboo;** D’awww, the poor puddy tat. 

**Kitty >:3 ; ** Pfft, okay Tweety Bird.

**Bugaboo;** Pfft, okay Sylvester XD

**Kitty >:3 ; ** ...touche :P

**Bugaboo;** Lol. I’ll see you when you get here, Chaton. I have something for you ;)

**Kitty >:3 ; ** Oooh, consider this kitten intrigued, Bugaboo.

**Bugaboo;** Ugh, you know I hate that nickname… You’ll just have to wait and see when you get here. Bring pajamas.

**Kitty >:3 ; ** But it suits you so well, Bugaboo ;) Pajamas???

**Bugaboo;** Just trust me, Chaton ;)

**Kitty >:3 ; ** Always, my Lady ;)

Marinette couldn’t help the little flutter she got in her stomach at the moniker he had originally given her. Well, after  _ clumsy girl _ but luckily that one hadn’t stuck around for any length of the time. She had enough trouble staying upright as Marinette as it was, without having her alter ego thought of as a total klutz as well. When no more messages popped up on Chat’s feed, she finally switched over to Adrien’s to read what he had written.

**Adrien <3 ;** Hey, Mari! I was wondering if you were still planning on going back to school in the morning?

**Mari <3 ;** Ugh, unfortunately. Maman and Papa think it’s time I stopped hiding out and I hate to admit it, but they’re right. I can’t keep hiding forever.

**Adrien <3 ; ** Oh, great! I mean, um… not great that they’re making you go back or anything. But great that you’re being so mature about it?

**Mari <3 ; ** Lol, thanks, Adrien. I mean, hopefully, it shouldn’t be too bad, right?

**Adrien <3 ; ** Right, right. Yeah, no… it should be fine. Great! I meant great!

**Mari <3 ;** Lol. Thanks, Adrien. I’m  _ totally _ confident in my decision to return now.

**Adrien <3 ; ** Oh… sorry :(I’m not helping, am I?

**Mari <3 ; ** Not really, no… but it’s sweet you care.

**Adrien <3 ; ** Really? 

**Mari <3 ; ** Really, really ;)

**Adrien <3 ; ** XD

**Mari <3 ; ** Lol, was there a reason you were asking about school? As far as I know, you haven’t been back either since your Dad went out of town.

**Adrien <3 ; ** I know, but I was thinking of going back tomorrow and...

**Mari <3 ;** And…

**Adrien <3 ;** Well, I uh... I kinda wanted to see if you might want me and my bodyguard to pick you up…? It’s just… I know most people have stopped hanging around the bakery since the interview and I know it’s only a few blocks down the road but like… just in case there are still reporters? I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed and decide not to come to school!

Marinette was quiet for a long moment after that, quietly stunned by the offer. Of course, it was a totally Adrien thing to offer. Hadn’t two of her reasons for loving him been because of how kind and generous he was? Actually, two of the reasons had ended up being kind, but still. There was a part of her that hesitated, not wanting to impose. Sure, the high school was only about four blocks away (as compared to her middle school which had been conveniently right across the street) and the bakery was technically en route from the Agreste Mansion… but she just hated to make them make a pit stop just to pick her up. At the same time, she didn’t want Adrien to think she didn’t appreciate his offer by saying no. She really did appreciate it; more than he could ever know.

**Adrien <3 ;** Marinette? I’m sorry. I made it weird, didn’t I? You don’t have to ride with us. I could have my dad’s driver pick you up instead! Then it wouldn’t be weird for you.

**Mari <3 ;** Weird? Oh, Adrien, no! It wouldn’t be weird. I’m sorry I made you think that. I’d love to ride with you and the Gorilla!

**Adrien <3 ; ** Oh… Phew, you had me worried there for a minute, lol. Okay, great. Um, pick you up at seven thirty, then?

**Mari <3 ; ** Sounds perfect. I’ll bring breakfast ;)

**Adrien <3 ; ** Omigawd, yes. You’re a Goddess :’)

**Mari <3 ; ** I try ;) Lol I’ll see you tomorrow.

**Adrien <3 ;** Tomorrow. Goodnight, Marinette <3

**Mari <3 ; ** Night, Adrien <3

Marinette set her phone aside just as a light thump from above announced the arrival of her partner-in-fighting-crime. There was a brief knock on the hatch and Marinette called out, assuring her partner she was decent before the door was pulled open and the leather-clad male dropped through the hatch with a wide grin on his face. He held a small overnight bag in one hand, which he dropped beside her bed to collect later. She swiveled in her chair, smiling immediately in return as her heart fluttered in her chest. Chat Noir, ever the show-off, vaulted easily down from the loft and crossed the room in two bounds, sweeping her up into a bone-crushing hug that had her squeaking in surprise, before ultimately melting into the embrace. Only when he set her back down, and she could properly breathe once again, did she attempt to speak.

“Hi to you, too,” she giggled, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. And then, just because she was feeling a little self-indulgent, she let him linger there enjoying the way his broad muscles shifted beneath her fingertips as he laughed with her.

“I missed you,” he responded with a shameless grin and a shrug, making himself look like a mischievous little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“I missed you, too, Chaton,” she responded with a smile. Before her, the teenage boy bounced on his toes and his eyes darted around the room with such an undeniable curiosity, she had to laugh at him. “You just wanna know what your present is, don’t you.”

Chat smiled sheepishly and shrugged, saying unapologetically, “I’m a curious kind of guy, Bugaboo.”

“Curiosity killed the Chat,” she responded dryly, and her nose wrinkled in protest at the nickname.

“Ah, but satisfaction brought it back, my Lady~” Chat purred in a sultry tone, and suddenly his face was inches from hers, eyelids at half-mast, lips curled up into a sardonic smirk. A smirk that said he knew exactly what effect he had on her, and was using it to his advantage. Swallowing hard, and trying vainly to ignore the heat that she suddenly found flooding her face, Marinette called on her alter ego’s bravado and pressed her fingertip to her partner’s nose, pushing him a healthy distance away before dropping her hand.

“Down, Kitty,” she chastised, turning away abruptly to hide her reddened face and busying herself with looking for his present. Eventually, she found it, and with a triumphant  _ aha _ , she turned back to face her partner. She held the items up and watched in amusement as his face fell from anticipation and curiosity to confusion.

“You… you made me a mask and ears?” He asked, thoroughly confused at her motives. “Not that I don’t appreciate anything you make for me,  _ Purrincess _ , but I kind of already have a magical set?” As if to prove his point, the ears atop his head twitched and shifted as if they had a mind of their own. Chat Noir had once told Ladybug that he had no control over his ears or tail; that they just kind of moved as they pleased. She wasn’t sure how much she actually believed of that, though, considering his tail had a distracting habit of wrapping around whichever one of her limbs was closest. Before, as Ladybug, it had always kind of annoyed her. Now, however, she found it endearing the way his tail would wrap around her ankle, her thigh, her wrist, or her waist...especially when they were cuddling.

“Silly Kitty,” she cooed, patting his head affectionately. “It’s so you can detransform, and still keep your identity secret. You told me Plagg wasn’t very happy about being kept in the ring for so long so… I thought this might help?” She explained, taking a page from Adrien’s book and rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. The blonde blinked, wide-eyed for a moment, before sweeping her off her feet into a bear hug that drove the very breath from her lungs.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” He asked as he squeezed the life out of her, and it took everything in her not to immediately burst into flames then and there. Because yes, Chat had told her he loved her on numerous occasions… but this was the first time he had said it since  _ The Big Reveal _ ; the first time he had said it since she had realized her feelings, and the first time he had said it to her, Marinette. The girl behind the iconic red and black spotted mask. All of these things combined made it so much more real, more potent than it usually was and the effect had her head reeling, her heart clenching, and her belly fluttering.

“Chat… can’t… breath…” She squeaked after a moment, prompting the boy to immediately set her back on her feet with an apologetic grin.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as well. She smiled and brushed his bangs away from where they fell haphazardly into his Veridian gaze.

“It’s okay, Kitten. Why don’t you transform and get your pajamas on, and I’ll go down and make us some hot chocolate? Then we can watch a movie before bed.” She suggested. 

“Sounds  _ purrfect, purrincess _ ,” he responded with a wink. She only smiled weakly in response, unable to even groan at the double puns, before hurrying to the trap door and heading down the stairs. Perhaps it was a bit cowardly; she was not only running away, she was refusing to acknowledge his declaration of love. But at the end of the day, she wasn’t ready to respond to that yet. She needed to sort out her tumultuous feelings first. Until she figured out what to do about her Chatdrien… Adrichat…  _ Fuck. _ Until she figured out what to do about her  _ Chat _ and  _ Adrien _ problem, she couldn’t properly respond to any declarations of feelings anyway. Perhaps it was better, that she was ignoring it for now. Or at least, that’s what she told herself as she fled down the stairs to make them some hot chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me... is it weird that when writing I'll come up with a word that seems to fit perfectly... but then have to double check the meaning online because I don't know the exact definition? I'm like an unfinished dictionary. I know the words, but not what they mean... But ninety-nine percent of the time, the word I'm thinking of is accurate to what I'm writing lmao. 
> 
> Anyway, lemme know what you think! Next time, we will finally get to see how Marinette's class reacts to her return to school!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BOOOOOI it's about to get minorly sinful up in this fic!!! Adrien is a naughty, naughty boy, yo ;) Also, Marinette is a fucking saint and none of us deserve her. Especially not Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun writing this. Now, I'm going to catch up on some shut-eye cause legit, I slept maybe four hours last night between going to bed after 2 am, waking back up at 5 am, and getting MAYBE an hour of sleep between 9 am and 11 am before I had to get ready for work. And this was all before an eight-hour shift.
> 
> Lil shorter than usual by about five hundred words but I really wanted to get this posted tonight as tomorrow, I'm going to try and focus on another story or two... namely When The Bluebird Flies and Call of the Sea, I think... but it really depends on my muse.

Marinette did _not_ want to get up when Monday morning rolled around. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t even because she had to go to school today. Okay, maybe that was part of it, but not the whole reason. No, the main reason was that she had stayed up most of the night with Chat, watching Anime and giggling like a couple of five-year-old girls while he did everything in his power to distract her from thinking about this. About today. About getting up and getting dressed and going to school, where everyone would undoubtedly gawk and whisper about her and… okay, maybe the reason she didn’t want to get up was _entirely_ that she had to go to school.

That being said, at six forty-five the next morning, the ravenette found herself dragged out of bed by her overly cheerful parents and the overly cheerful scent of chocolate chip and banana pancakes. This seemed more like a dry toast kind of day (in her opinion) but she wasn’t about to say no to her favorite breakfast either. So it was that by the time seven thirty rolled around, Marinette found herself showered, dressed, and fed and ready for Adrien to arrive. How long she had spent agonizing over her outfit, she didn’t even want to think about. But she felt pretty good about her choice of a faded black band tee-shirt featuring her favorite rockstar Jagged Stone, a ruffled pink skirt, black platforms, and a black leather jacket. Her hair was up in a messy bun, tendrils framing her heart-shaped face, and she only had on the bare minimum of makeup in the form of light pink lipstick and mascara.

At seven thirty on the dot, there was a knock at the apartment door and Marinette bounced up and moved apprehensively to answer it. The imposing form of Adrien’s bodyguard filled the doorway, his face set into his usual scowl, and she shifted uncomfortably unsure of what to say. That is until Adrien poked his head out from behind the large man, totally dwarfed in size, with a broad grin on his face.

“Hey, Marinette! Wow, you look great! Ready to go?” He asked brightly, eyes scanning her outfit from head to toe, and despite his _way_ too cheerful demeanor, she felt an answering smile begin to curve her lips nonetheless.

“Th-thanks, Adrien! And um… no? Not really?” She offered with a nervous chuckle, earning a concerned look from the blonde boy.

“You’re still going though, right? I mean, we can stay here if you want but everyone is really looking forward to seeing you again,” he explained, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor.

“No, no… I need to do this. It’s time,” she said firmly, tugging nervously at one of the curls hanging by her ear. The Gorilla grunted and turned suddenly, heading back down the stairs as the two teens shared a look. Adrien smiled apologetically.

“He doesn’t talk much,” he explained, before gesturing grandly towards the doorway. “After you, Mademoiselle,” he added with a cheesy grin. Giggling, Marinette dropped into a curtsy, her eyes shining with mirth.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, rising and passing him to follow the Gorilla down the stairs. There were a few reporters still outside, and they shouted questions as Adrien’s bodyguard guided them to the car, but none seemed willing to encroach upon the invisible boundary the massive man had imposed. To do so would likely mean great bodily harm and so it was relatively easy for her to block them out. The two teens slid into the car without issue, buckling up while the Gorilla moved around to the driver’s side. Marinette took the chance to dig the two bakery bags out of her backpack. Adrien immediately perked up.

“Is that…?” He began hopefully as she passed him one of the bags.

“Mhm. Two Lemon and Raspberry Tarts, as requested,” she smiled. Adrien beamed back at her, fishing one of the flaky tarts out and taking a big bite. He moaned in delight, eyes closing blissfully as he savored the treat that was the perfect balance of sweet and tart...

“Ermahgerd… ‘s _so_ _good_ ,” he mumbled around the food, earning an amused chuckle from the girl. Adrien finished the treat off before they even hit the first traffic light and she laughed as she caught sight of a bit of lemon filling on the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve got some… um… here,” she chuckled as he turned towards her, reaching out one hand to wipe the lemon filling away with her thumb.

“Oh… thanks,” he said sheepishly. “It was really good.”

“I can tell,” she responded with an amused roll of her eyes, looking around for a napkin or something to wipe her thumb off. She was pretty sure her shoulder devil (which both looked and sounded suspiciously like Alya) was telling her to just pop her thumb into her mouth an such the lemon flavoring off… but that seemed a bit forward. Unfortunately, she had forgotten napkins. Adrien, seeing her dilemma, smiled innocently.

“Here, I got it,” he said sweetly, taking her wrist in his hand. Stupidly, and probably gullibly, Marinette didn’t resist when he drew her hand closer to him. Of course, this was Adrien. Sweet, golden boy Adrien Agreste who had probably never done anything remotely suggestive or, ahem, _sinful_ in his life. So how was she to know his intentions when he lifted her hand, leaned forward, and closed his lips around her thumb like it was a freaking lollipop!?! Marinette was pretty sure the sound that escaped her was not human, and her face tingled with the sheer heat of her blush as she stared at the supposed golden boy, eyes blown wide in shock. He sucked lightly on the digit before finally pulling back and smirking up at her.

“There, all clean,” he said with a wink, before glancing out the window. “Oh look, we’re here! Come on, Mari, we don’t wanna be late!”

And then he was gone, and Marinette was left in the car struggling to restart her heart while the Gorilla stared into the rearview mirror with something that almost resembled concern. When she finally managed to regulate her breathing, she dazedly handed off the second bakery to the chauffeur/bodyguard and slid across the street to the door Adrien had left open. She mumbled what was most likely an incoherent goodbye to the man before shutting the door behind her. Luckily, she had friends that were more than happy to distract her from what had just occurred in the car moments before. Adrien looked incredibly smug as she steadfastly avoided his gaze, instead focusing on their two other friends who were awaiting their arrival with broad grins and open arms.

“Girl, I’m so glad you’re back!” Alya spoke first, folding the petite girl into a bone-crushing hug.

“Yeah, we’ve missed you, Nettie!” Nino agreed, pulling her into a much gentler hug the second his girlfriend released her. Marinette hugged them both back, in turn, a faint smile curving her lips.

“I missed you too,” she said, tucking a stray lock behind her hair as the scrawny DJ released her. Adrien took the chance to sling an arm over her shoulders, either ignoring or not noticing the way she nearly jumped out of her skin at the touch. Alya, of course, noticed immediately and Marinette just knew there would be questions later.

“You ready to face the day, Mare?” Alya asked for now. The ravenette shrugged with a weak smile curving her lips.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said with a sigh. The redhead slapped her on the back hard enough that if Adrien weren’t holding her up, she likely would have pitched forward and face planted the cement.

“That’s the spirit!”

“Owww~” Marinette moaned in response, shooting a glare at her best friend. Alya winced and quickly apologized, and as the warning bell rang the four began heading to their Home Room. Luckily, Marinette had most of her classes with at least one of her friends. They all had Home Room with Madame Kendall. They also shared their first and second periods; French History with Madame Bustier and Physics with Madame Mendeliev. Third period was gym with Monsieur Capelle; she shared third with Nino. Fourth was Calculus with Monsieur Renard and was shared with Adrien. Fifth, she had Madame Beaulieu for Home Economics, with Alya and Nino. And for sixth, she had Creative Writing with Monsieur Ansel, which she also shared with Adrien.

Adrien kept his arm slung over her shoulder, while Alya and Nino flanked them on either side as they headed up the front steps and into the school. She immediately realized what they were doing as all conversation in the previously noisy hall died and hundreds of eyes turned towards them. While Marinette shrunk in on herself, her friends kept their chins up and glared at anyone who stared for more than a moment. Adrien’s arm tightened around her, and she took comfort in his steady embrace as they headed to the second floor, where their Home Room was located. As luck would have it, just about all their former classmates were in this Home Room as well. When the four walked in, they were greeted by broad grins and sympathetic looks. Here, no one gawked longer than necessary and no one bothered her with unwanted questions.

The four were almost immediately surrounded by their friends, each one babbling reassurances and ‘are you okays’ as they pulled the girl from the blonde’s embrace and into one hug after another. Marinette’s nervousness faded in the wake of the unwavering support of classmates she had known since middle school, at least. Some for even longer. The final bell rang, and like clockwork, Madame Kendall swept in and ordered everyone to their seats. She paused at the sight of Marinette, but simply gave the girl a nod before heading to her seat to take roll. Marinette turned to her seat as well, but she paused before she sat down and her eyes strayed unbidden to the lone figure in the front center row of the classroom.

In all the years Marinette had known her, Chloe Bourgeois had never looked worse. She understood immediately what Alya had meant when she said the blonde had basically been ostracized. Even the desks immediately around the blonde were vacant, some of their classmates opting to sit three to a desk to avoid sitting near the blonde. Gone were the designer clothes, the perfect hairdo, the flawless makeup. In a word, Chloe looked haggard. Her blonde hair was frizzy and hung loosely around a face devoid of makeup. There were bags under her red shot eyes, and her nose looked pink as if she had been crying. Her clothes were baggy; an oversized sweatshirt and sweats, and she was staring forlornly at her desk, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection.

Four rows above her, Sabrina was sitting with Rose and Juleka, laughing freely since perhaps the first time since befriending Chloe. And while Marinette was happy the petite redhead had finally found her way out of the blonde’s shadow, she just felt bad for Chloe. Which was stupid, because Chloe had brought this onto herself. She obviously wasn’t handling the loss of her social circle well, but that wasn’t really Marinette’s business. She ought to turn away and ignore her like the rest of their classmates. Chloe had revealed her biggest secret to the world out of spite. She had endangered her friends, her family, her partner. Marinette had every right to hate her… but the thought of turning her back on the blonde now just made her feel queasy.

“Mari?” Alya prompted, curiosity alight in her hazel eyes as she patted the seat beside her. Marinette’s usual seat. The row below them, Adrien and Nino sat side by side, smiling at her expectantly. They wanted her to join them; as she always did. Their foursome had been practically inseparable since middle school. In any class they all had together, they adopted the same exact seating arrangements as that first year in Madame Bustier’s class. She should join them, as she usually did, but her feet refused to carry her towards them, even as their warm smiles morphed into mild concern.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng? Please take your seat so I can begin roll,” Madame Kendall said, and Marinette barely even registered that her normally annoyed tone was subdued, even respectful when addressing the ravenette.

Marinette was so conflicted; maybe even as conflicted as she was over Chat and Adrien. Well, okay. Not _that_ conflicted but you get the point. Did she take her normal seat beside Alya, spend Home Room joking and goofing off with her friends… or did she make an example of herself by choosing to sit by Chloe, the girl who had bullied her all through her childhood and teen years? The answer was simple. She knew it was. And with an apologetic look at her friends, she turned instead towards the blonde who had made her life a living hell for the past twelve or so years. A hush fell over the classroom as she crossed the short span of space and came to a halt at the edge of the desk. Chloe didn’t look up, but the way her shoulders hunched suggested she knew the darker haired girl was there.

“Is this seat taken?” Marinette asked, pointing at the empty spot beside the blonde. Blue eyes peeked up from beneath blonde bangs, and after what felt like an eternity she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. And Marinette beamed as if they had been best friends for years, and with her chin held high she marched around the desk and dropped into the empty spot as if she belonged there. People were definitely gawking now. Even Chloe was peeking at her from the corner of her eye with disbelief and uncertainty in her gaze. Marinette allowed them to stare for a moment longer before clearing her throat.

“You were going to take roll, Madame Kendall?” She prompted expectantly, shaking her teacher from the confusion plastered across her face as she, too, had been staring at the ravenette.

“R-right,” she said slowly, shuffling her papers together before finally calling out the first name on the list. “Adrien Agreste?”

The rest of that class was full of curious and disbelieving looks, but no one said anything about it when she left the class… nor did they say anything when she sat with Chloe in the other four classes they shared, or when she invited herself and her friends to sit with the blonde at lunch. By the end of the day, it was simply widely known that Marinette wasn’t mad at Chloe and that for the time being, at least, anybody caught gossiping about the blonde would be subject to a death glare chilling enough to curdle milk. Needless to say, no one was gossiping about the blonde by the end of the third day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


End file.
